Reality of Dreams
by Nefcairiel
Summary: Elrohir's dream of his twin in trouble is haunting him. He'll do anything it takes to keep that dream from becoming a reality...Story complete!
1. Chapter 1

Elrohir opened his eyes. He stared blankly at the darkened ceiling of Elladan's bedroom, squinting to make out the details of elegant artwork that covered its surface. Lightly painted leaves and vines spread out across the ceiling, interlacing and weaving together in an intricate pattern that would otherwise have been hardly noticeable, unless the observer was lying flat on their back, suffering from insomnia, and having nothing better to do but stare at the ceiling, as Elrohir was doing at that very moment.   
  
Sighing, Elrohir rolled over onto his side and was met with the face of his soundly sleeping twin. He studied his twin's face; the perfectly proportionate features, slightly arched elegant eyebrows, prominent chin and cheekbones. He looked so peaceful. Elrohir knew that was exactly how he would have looked if only he were asleep. But, alas, he could not sleep. Not tonight, not last night, nor any of the nights before for at least the past week. He'd been having nightmares. Not just any old random nightmare, but the same reoccurring nightmare that came to him frequently and frightened him, causing him to wake drenched in sweat each time.   
  
It was about Elladan. And the dream was always the same: dark clouds and torrential rain, and a figure in the distance lying unmoving on the ground. As he would get closer to the still figure, he could see his face, and it was the face of his brother; only instead of the usual look of cunning mischief and the playful smile that was always tugging at his mouth, there would be a look of pain and distress and utter loneliness on his face. He couldn't tell what was wrong with his brother; whether or not he was wounded, or how he came to be there, or even where there was. Elrohir only knew that he wanted to help him, to take him in his arms and ease his pain. But Elrohir was not there. He was only watching. And he would watch as tears streamed down his brother's face and he could do nothing to stop them or end his brother's agony. He would wake abruptly at that point and lay awake for the rest of the night, shivering.  
  
He shuddered thinking of the horrible dream and let his thoughts mull over what it could possibly mean. Surely it was not a premonition. There was no chance that in the near future he and Elladan would be separated. They were always together. Whether they were out hunting, or training on the field, or pouring over their studies, they were together. Elladan was his brother, his twin, his very best friend. He would never leave him. They had a relationship that most people could never understand. They both made up a half of a whole. One could not exist without the other. It was simple, and they both knew it. So where am I in that stupid dream? Elrohir wondered. Ah, why am I stressing over this so badly, he thought to himself. A dream's a dream. But he still could not stop thinking about it. He lay still with his eyes shut for another quarter of an hour, hoping sleep would come, but he finally gave up in frustration. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Glancing enviously at the soundly sleeping form of his brother, he climbed out of bed and set off for the library.   
  
* * *   
  
Elladan awoke warm and sleepy in his covers. Pale sunlight flooded his room, lightening it with a soft, white glow. He could tell it was early. He rolled over, expecting to be met with the sleeping face of his brother, but instead he faced an empty pillow still indented with the mark of where his brother's head had been. He felt slightly lonely and disappointed that his twin was not there. Although they still often had sleep overs in each other's rooms, he was always happy when they did, and now when his brother was expected to be there, and wasn't, it made him strangely sad. He reached over and felt the spot where his brother had laid. No warmth met his touch. His brother must have left earlier in the night. He was pretty sure he knew where to find him, however.  
  
Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and stretched his arms towards the ceiling. He climbed out of bed, stretched again, and began preparing himself for the day. He dressed himself in a clean tunic and, sitting himself in front of the mirror, began the routine process of arranging his long dark hair into its usual style–half pulled back into a braid. Satisfied with his job, he briefly surveyed his reflection in the mirror and wondered for a moment what others thought of his and Elrohir's looks. He tried to see himself as a stranger would. Flawless skin, perfect features, noble brow, high cheekbones, bright gray eyes...Not bad, he thought. He shrugged. He didn't care too much for looks, but if you're blessed with them, you might as well take the time every once in a while to look in the mirror.   
  
He left his room and headed across the hall to his brother's room. Peeking inside, he was not surprised to find an empty bed void of any sign that his brother had been there the previous night. It was still nicely made from the last time he had slept in it. Whenever that was, Elladan thought. He knew about Elrohir's recent sleepless nights, and he didn't think Elrohir knew he knew. It slightly bothered him that Elrohir hadn't brought it up, or told Elladan what was bothering him. Even when he came into his room last night to sleep over he offered no explanation of his reason for being there. If he doesn't bring it up today then I will, he thought. He left Elrohir's room and continued down the hall towards the library.   
  
Upon reaching the library, Elladan quickly scanned the spacious room for any sign of his brother. Sure enough, curled up on the window seat at the back of the room, Elrohir was fast asleep with a large book propped open beside him. Shaking his head, Elladan made his way over to his sleeping twin.   
  
Passing one of the desks on his way to the back of the room, Elladan snatched up a feather quill that was resting on some parchment. He sat down next to his twin and took a good look at him. He could see a faint hint of dark circles under his eyes. He looks so tired, Elladan thought. Maybe I shouldn't wake him up just yet...but, then again, he has to get up in a little while anyway for training. Grinning mischievously he took the quill and traced the feather all over his sleeping brother's face. Elrohir stirred and his face twitched a little. Still grinning, Elladan continued his assault on his sleeping brother. After twitching several more times, trying to escape the tickling feather, Elrohir's hand shot up and smacked his own face, causing him to awake abruptly with a gasp.  
  
Elladan fell back laughing. Confused, Elrohir looked with sleep-filled eyes at the doubled up form of his brother, to the feather quill lying on the floor, and realized his brother's trick.  
  
"Very clever, Ell," Elrohir said with narrowed eyes. His face stung a bit where he had slapped it.   
  
"Good morning, little brother," Elladan replied, still giggling, "You know, hitting oneself is often considered a serious sign of stupidity,"  
  
"Is it?" Elrohir raised his eyebrows. "Well, when one has a menacing orc for a brother, who insists on pulling stupid pranks every chance he gets, I think in most cases the stupidity can be pinned on him." He took a swipe at his brother's head, but he was tired and his movements were slow. Elladan dodged the swipe and, grabbing his brother's arm, pulled him to his feet.  
  
"Oh, I'm the one who pulls stupid pranks, is it? If I don't recall, I believe it was you who just last week had the idea of slipping that mystery herb into Glorfindel's wine glass at supper."  
  
Elrohir laughed suddenly, remembering the incident, "Yes, the effects of that herb were quite unexpected and rather..." he searched for the right word.  
  
"Hilarious?" Elladan finished for him, laughing. "He was in the worst drunken state I've ever seen. But everyone thought it was just from too much wine. No one suspected a thing."  
  
Forgetting his weariness for the moment, Elrohir smiled. "We definitely need to remember what herb that was next time we get into father's medicine stores."   
  
Elladan smiled back. "Come, master sluggard," he said, throwing an arm around his twin's shoulder, "Let us go and fetch some breakfast."  
  
They made their way to the kitchen area and Elrohir sat himself at the table while Elladan gathered some food for them to eat. Breakfast was usually not a formal meal in their household and was eaten in the kitchen instead of the dining room. The twins would grab a quick meal before their training, and their father, Lord Elrond, had usually already eaten by this time and would be off in his study. Occasionally they would run into Glorfindel in the kitchen, but today he was already out on the training field. Sometimes they would walk into their kitchen and find some random elf conversing with the cooks or eating. Everyone was rather close at Rivendell, and so it was not entirely surprising or unwelcome to have an uninvited visitor.   
  
This morning, however, it was just the twins in the kitchen and the cooks had left them some fresh bread and fruit for breakfast. Elladan brought it over to the table and sat down by his twin. He was quite hungry and began eating right away. He tore the loaf of bread in half and alternated between bites of bread and handfuls of berries. He looked to Elrohir, wondering why he was not doing the same. Elrohir was staring blankly out the open doors that led to the beautiful balcony outside, obviously lost in his thoughts. Elladan stopped eating and stared at his brother. Elrohir didn't notice.  
  
"'Ro!"  
  
Elrohir snapped out of his trance and looked to his brother, questioning.   
  
"What's wrong? Why aren't you eating?" Elladan asked.  
  
Elrohir yawned and shrugged tiredly. "I guess I'm just not hungry," he replied. In truth, he wasn't hungry. He hadn't had an appetite ever since he started having that awful dream.  
  
Elladan's brow furrowed with worry. He put his food down. "'Ro, what's wrong?" he repeated. "You aren't eating, you haven't been sleeping at night–"  
  
Elrohir's eyes snapped to his brother's face at those words. "How did you–?"  
  
"Know? Honestly, 'Ro, do I look that stupid? We're twins, we know everything about each other. I know that you can't sleep at night, and I know that you haven't been eating, and I know that you're keeping something from me, and I want to know what it is. Please, 'Ro. We tell each other everything." Elladan's face was a mixture of pleading, worry, and what looked faintly like loneliness.  
  
Almost exactly like the look he wore in the dream. Elrohir looked away quickly. He didn't want to tell Elladan about that dream. He didn't even want to think about it himself. Besides, it was nothing. Just a stupid dream. Everyone had nightmares once in a while. If he told Elladan that a silly dream was taking a toll on his health, then Elladan would think he was weak and foolish. Nobody gets worked up merely over a dream. No, Elrohir thought, Elladan would not think of me as weak. I know he would understand, and would do all he could to make me feel better. But still, I don't want to scare him.  
  
"It's nothing Ell," Elrohir replied in what he hoped was a convincing voice. But no matter how convincing his voice was, he knew it wouldn't fool his twin. "I just haven't been getting much sleep because I get so caught up with reading in the library, you know? Ada's got some very interesting books in there about all sorts of stuff. Dragons, and balrogs, and histories of elven warriors–"  
  
"Nice job of getting off the topic, 'Ro" Elladan said in a flat voice. "Fine, if you won't tell me then I guess I'll just have to beat it out of you," he threatened. "Not now, though. I'm eating."  
  
Elrohir half smiled. He was grateful to his brother for not pushing it any further.   
  
"Come on, 'Ro." Elladan said after a couple of minutes. "We've got to get out to the training field. Glorfindel will be waiting."  
  
* * *  
  
"One!" clang. " Two!" clang. "Three–"  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
"Sorry, 'Ro!"  
  
"Move your feet, Elrohir!" Glorfindel instructed. Today the twins were training with swords. They had already practically mastered the bow, as well as long knives, and they were getting quite good with their swords. However, today their performance fell rather short of impressive. Elrohir just wasn't concentrating. He wasn't pulling the right moves to counter Elladan's. His blocks were not correctly aimed and his ducks were a second too late. And he was constantly on the defensive, which was not like him. Both of the twins always struggled to be on the offensive and have the upper hand on the other. But today Elrohir just didn't have his usual skills. It was obvious he was tired. Rather than make him feel worse by criticizing him, Glorfindel decided to give the kid a break.   
  
"Alright, boys," he called, "That's good for today. Why don't you take a break. Catch up on some sleep, perhaps?" Glorfindel glanced at Elrohir and gave slight nod. "Your skills with the sword are improving. Today was just a bit of an... 'off-day,'" He broke off suddenly when something at the other end of the field caught his attention. Apparently, there was a heated argument going on between two elves over whose arrow had come closer to the center of the target in a shooting contest. Glorfindel strolled across the grass hoping to stop a fight before one broke out.  
  
Elrohir sighed, frustrated. "An 'off-day?" he said angrily. "I've never had an 'off-day' before! What's wrong with me?"  
  
"You're just tired 'Ro, it's no problem. Glorfindel could see that. He doesn't think any less of you." Elladan tried to reassure him.   
  
"So? Being tired is no excuse for not fighting well! Half of being a good warrior is the ability to put up with the extreme fatigue that battle brings!" Elrohir was clearly upset.  
  
"'Ro, you have hardly slept for a week, now! That's very different from battle fatigue. I'm telling Ada you're sick, he'll do something about this." Elladan turned to head back home.   
  
"No, Elladan! Don't tell Ada anything! You know how much he frets. He'll drug me and put me to sleep for days, or something! Please, Elladan. I'm fine! I'm not sick! Elves can't even get sick, anyways. I told you I just get caught up in reading at night!"  
  
"You expect me to believe that, 'Ro? It's not the reading that's been keeping you up, it's the other way around. You read because you can't sleep. And elves can get sick, just not naturally. And whatever's wrong with you doesn't seem natural." Elladan shook his head and continued walking towards the house.  
  
"Hey! Where are you going?! We're not finished here, yet!" Elrohir ran after his brother.  
  
"'Ro, you're too tired to fight. You'll just end up getting hurt." Elladan said, knowing how angry those words would make his brother. He smiled, waiting for his brother's reaction. This is going to be funny, he thought.  
  
Elrohir charged him, brandishing his training sword. Elladan turned, bringing his own weapon around with him, blocking the charge, and sending Elrohir stumbling to the left. Elrohir recovered quickly, however, and swung again to the right. Elladan brought his sword up just in time to block the blow. Elrohir was moving quickly now and was clearly on the offense, swinging swiftly and throwing in a clever spins every now and then. It was all Elladan could do to keep up with him and keep himself from taking a blow from the blunt sword.  
  
"By the Valar, Elrohir! Why weren't you moving like this ten minutes ago?" Elladan asked with a smile. He had forgotten how good of a fighter Elrohir was when provoked or angry. But he could tell that Elrohir's energy was quickly running out and he would soon have to give up the fight out of exhaustion. When Elrohir's sword had Elladan's pinned down, Elladan found the perfect chance to end the fight. He thrust his sword upward with as much force as he could manage, not only freeing his own sword, but knocking Elrohir's completely out of his hands. Elrohir watched, surprised and angry, as his sword flew through the air and landed several feet away. He looked back to his brother with narrowed eyes.   
  
Elladan smirked at him."Good, 'Ro. Just not quite good enough." I really should stop provoking him about now, Elladan thought to himself, as he watched Elrohir come charging at him again, this time with no weapon.  
  
Elrohir threw himself at his brother knocking them both to the ground. They rolled around, struggling for several minutes to be the one that pinned the other down. No fists were thrown, or hair pulled. This was not a violent fight, and they really weren't that angry at each other. This was just one of the harmless wrestling matches that broke out several times a week, in which the twins would desperately try to prove to the other that they were the stronger one. In most cases, it was a fifty-fifty chance that one or the other would win, since the twins were of equal weight and strength. But today, Elrohir just didn't have his usual strength, and Elladan came out the victor of the match quite easily.  
  
Elladan was sitting on his brother's chest, pinning his arms down with his knees. Elrohir continued to struggle for a minute more, but it did him no good; he couldn't move. He finally decided to lay still until his brother decided to release him. He shut his eyes and gasped for breath, not because Elladan was cutting off his air supply, because he wasn't really, but because he was so exhausted from their fight and his body was begging him to rest.  
  
"Okay, 'Ro, as long as you're just sitting there, let's talk," Elladan said, looking down at his brother's face. "You tell me what's been bothering you so much lately, and then perhaps I won't tell Ada to drug you and put you to bed for a few days."  
  
Elrohir opened his eyes. His breathing had lessened a bit. "Elladan, I've told you, there's nothing–"  
  
"Still not talking, huh?" Elladan asked. An evil grin spread across his face. "Hmm, perhaps I know how to make you talk." He poked his brother's side, causing him to jerk away from his touch, but Elrohir was firmly pinned and couldn't move much.  
  
Elrohir's eyes widened. "Don't Elladan," he warned.  
  
"Aw, what's the matter, 'Ro? What are you gonna do, huh?" he said, tickling his brother's sides.  
  
Elrohir couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing. He tried to squirm away, to get out of the reach of his brother's hands, but he couldn't. "Stop—Elladan—not—fair!" he managed to get out through gasps of laughter.  
  
Elladan smirked. He kept tickling his brother for a minute more and then gave up. "I guess this doesn't really work, seeing as how you can hardly string a sentence together through all your laughing," he said. He hadn't really expected tickling him would get his brother to confess his worries, but he just wanted to lighten the mood a bit. He rolled off his brother and lay on the soft grass, looking up into the sky. Elrohir lay limp, still gasping for air. He was too weak to move. Elladan couldn't tell if his brother was still angry or not, but he could tell how exhausted he was.  
  
Elladan rolled onto his side and looked at the still form of his brother. "You okay, 'Ro?"  
  
"Yes, I'm okay, you hideous orc. No thanks to you, though...cheating in a fair fight..." Elrohir replied, his breathing having slowed down considerably.   
  
"Cheating? I didn't cheat!" Elladan laughed. He could tell his brother was not really angry with him, and he was glad. "Come, 'Ro," he said getting to his feet. "Let's head home. You really do need to sleep." He reached down and pulled his twin to his feet. "Or does Ada need to make you?" he asked, once again provoking his brother.  
  
Elrohir looked once again with narrowed eyes at his brother, "Elladan, I'm not sick. Please don't tell Ada anything. I'll take a nap, I'll be fine."   
  
"Alright, alright. I was kidding. But you will eventually have to at least tell me what's been on your mind lately. But for now I'll take your word that it's not that important."  
  
Of course it's not important, Elrohir told himself. But he still couldn't shake the feeling of fear that dream gave him; couldn't shake the image of his brother lying deserted and helpless in the rain. Yeah, I'll go to sleep now, Elladan, he thought to himself. But I better not see you once I get there...  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

Elladan roamed aimlessly through the halls of Rivendell, letting his thoughts wander as aimlessly as his feet. The morning was crisp and beautiful, and pale golden sunlight spilled between pillars and onto the floor, creating a constant pattern of light and shadow. Numerous birds could be heard singing in the distance, oblivious to everything but their own content existence.   
  
Elladan had no destination in mind and wasn't even sure of the purpose of his roaming except for the fact that, quite frankly, he was just plain bored. He was waiting for his twin to wake up. It had been nearly twenty-four hours now since Elrohir had gone to bed, and still there was no sign of him this morning. He must have really had a lot of sleep to catch up on, Elladan thought. He couldn't help but wonder for the hundredth time what had caused Elrohir's recent lack of sleep and why Elrohir wouldn't tell him about it. It must be something he's embarrassed about, he thought to himself. But so what if it embarrasses him? He should still tell me–me, his twin, his other half, his best friend in the whole world. Hmm, maybe he's afraid of going to sleep, because of nightmares or something like that, Elladan mused. But 'Ro wouldn't get so worked up over a silly nightmare that it would actually start taking a toll on his health. Ah, what is bothering my little brother so? Elladan wondered, frustrated. It's beginning to bother me as much as it is him, and I don't even know what it is!  
  
Elladan mentally went over the options of things he could do this morning while waiting for Elrohir to wake up. He could go out on the training field and practice with his bow. But no, that's only fun when Elrohir's there to compete with him and try to prove he's the better bowman. He could go to the library and read. But no, the only times he goes to the library is when Elrohir's there. Elrohir had always been the one that loved reading, and while Elladan didn't mind it that much, and sometimes even found it interesting, he would never choose to go to the library by himself. Well, there must be something I can do without my twin, Elladan told himself. But, after thinking it over for a minute, he realized that absolutely everything would be completely boring if he didn't have Elrohir with him. And coming to that realization slightly shocked Elladan. He had always known how much he cared for his twin and how much they meant to each other, but he had never actually considered life without him. And now that he had, the thought completely frightened him. He shuddered slightly. He would die if he ever lost Elrohir. He knew he would. I would never have the strength to move on as Ada did when his twin was taken from him, Elladan thought to himself. I could never live with half of myself missing. I could never feel joy or wholeness again. I would never have fun again or enjoy the simple things of life that I take for granted when I have Elrohir with me. I would—he shook himself mentally before he could finish that thought. Why am I scaring myself with such horrible thoughts? he asked himself. Elrohir's fine. He's fine, he reassured himself. And as long as I'm living I will never let anything happen to my brother.  
  
Elladan wasn't surprised when he looked up and found himself standing outside his brother's bedroom. He hadn't consciously decided to end up there, and he didn't want to disturb his brother's much needed sleep, but he decided he would go in anyway. He needed to be by Elrohir right now, just to calm himself down after the pointless scare he had inadvertently given himself. He opened the door as quietly as possible and entered the room.  
  
The curtains were drawn, creating a dark green glow in the room. Elladan noticed his twin curled up under his covers, fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm to his breathing. He walked over to the bedside and looked down at his identical brother. He examined the sleeping face for a moment and was pleased to see how peaceful it looked. Yes, he told himself, he's safe and sound, just as he should be. Elladan turned and sat himself down in the cushioned chair a few feet from the bed, and decided to patiently wait it out until his brother woke up.   
  
* * *  
  
Elrohir drifted through the dark oblivion of unconsciousness. He saw and heard nothing, just darkness and silence, and that was exactly all he wanted: a peaceful sleep to rejuvenate his body and refresh his mind. Subconsciously, he realized how lucky he was so far not to have been interrupted by any unwanted dreams, and he just wanted the empty darkness to go on forever. He just wanted to float through the nothingness where time and space had no meaning, for the rest of his life. Please don't let this peacefulness end, he thought to himself. Please let me stay here for at least a little while longer...  
  
As if in answer to his silent plea, the darkness suddenly began to swirl into a mass of blurred colors. No, Elrohir thought. Not the dream. Please don't be the dream. The colors began taking shape and focusing, becoming a scene that Elrohir had no desire to see. No! Elrohir's subconscious pleaded, Not now. Please not now...He would have woken himself at this point only he seemed to have forgotten that a conscious world existed outside of his personal oblivion.   
  
The scene came into focus enough that Elrohir could tell it was once again dark and rainy. But, this is different, he thought to himself. Everything's blurry, and slightly faded. And, there's no still figure lying on the ground...Elladan isn't here! But, this is the same place that I've seen him in all the previous nightmares. Why is this one different? And then two figures came into view. They were running fast, obviously trying to get away from something. It's me and Elladan, he realized suddenly. The dream was getting blurrier however, and it seemed to be fading. He could hear their footsteps and panting as if from a hundred miles away. And then he saw the figures fade into nothingness. And suddenly, the scene became sharper than ever, and there, lying on the ground was his twin brother, crying in agony, as he had seen him so many times before. No! Elrohir thought angrily. I don't want to see this! Not again! Not when I can't do anything to make it stop. He stared at his brother lying alone in the rain. Where am I? He wondered, furiously. Why am I not there to help him? What's wrong with him?!  
  
"ELLADAN!"   
  
Elrohir woke with a start, sitting up instantly in bed. He was shaking like a leaf and his breath was coming in short gasps.   
  
"'Ro! It's okay. I'm right here." Elladan gently placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.  
  
Elrohir started, having not noticed his twin standing there beside his bed. He looked up into his twin's eyes and saw much worry and concern mirrored there. He wanted more than anything to reach out and bring his brother down into a tight embrace, so glad was he to see him safe and sound. But he also didn't want to make a big deal out of the situation. He was glad, however, when his brother decided to reach down and wrap his arms around his neck.  
  
"'Ro, you scared me," Elladan told his trembling twin, holding him tight, "I tried to get you to wake up when you started thrashing around, but you wouldn't...you just wouldn't." He gave his brother a tight squeeze and then pulled away to look into his face. "Why didn't you tell me you've been having nightmares, 'Ro?" he asked gently.  
  
"Ell," Elrohir began, not quite knowing what to say. "It's just a dream, I'm okay. I don't know why it gets me so worked up every time. Just give me a minute to calm down." He put his hands in his face and rubbed his eyes, wishing he could get that horrible image out of his mind. He took deep breaths, tying his best to regain his composure.  
  
"'Ro, tell me about it," Elladan pleaded. "Tell me what's been haunting you these past nights."  
  
Elrohir looked up into the pleading face of his brother, and wondered if Elladan was seeing the exact same look that he was. He studied his brother's face for a moment, deciding how much he should tell him about the dream. "It's," he began, "about us."  
  
No surprise there, Elladan's face told him.  
  
"And," Elrohir went on, speaking slowly, carefully choosing his words, "we're separated." He paused for a long moment, then figuring he could leave it at that, he looked up at his brother, hoping that would satisfy him.  
  
"And?" Elladan asked slowly, questioning. "That's it?"  
  
Elrohir hesitated for a moment then gave a small nod.  
  
The playful smile that the twins both usually wore began creeping it's way along Elladan's face. "No gruesome details? No horrifically graphic death? Valar, Elrohir, I was expecting something more like, 'You get eaten by a balrog in front of my face, and then he spits your bones out at my feet,' or something to that extent," he teased his brother, hoping to make him smile. "Shades, I've had tons of dreams like that, 'Ro, and they do little more than make me laugh."   
  
Elrohir gave a small half smile and slightly shook his head at his twin's antics. He knew Elladan was just trying to lighten the mood as he always did when things got too serious. He went along with the ploy. "Remind me next time I need someone understanding that you are not the one to turn to...Orc." He gave his brother a playful shove.  
  
Smiling, Elladan sat down heavily on the edge of the bed causing both of them to bounce slightly. "Elrohir," he said, placing his hand on his brother's shoulder, becoming serious again, "Remember the promise we made to each other back when we were small elflings?"  
  
Elrohir nodded, looking his twin in the eyes, "Of course, Elladan. How could I forget?"  
  
Elladan went on, "We swore to each other that we would never, ever leave each other no matter what happens throughout the ages. And that someday, we will eventually sail to the Undying Lands together." He squeezed his grip on his brother's shoulder and looked him squarely in the eyes. "So, no silly dream that either of us has about us being separated, is worth our concern or worry, because nothing is coming between us and that promise, Elrohir. Nothing."  
  
Elrohir gave a firm nod and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. Unspoken words passed between their eyes, and they both understood at that moment how invaluable they were to each other; how necessary they were to the other's happiness and will to live.  
  
"You're right, Elladan," Elrohir said after a moment. "It is foolish of me to get so upset over a stupid dream that has absolutely nothing to do with reality." But even as he said the words, he knew that he would not, that he could not stop worrying about that dream. Something about it so unnerved him and he didn't really know what it was. It just seemed too real. And now there was that whole new part to the dream that he had never seen before, and he couldn't figure out for the life of him what it meant.  
  
Elladan stood up and walked over to the window.  
  
"How long have I been asleep, Ell?" Elrohir asked, stretching.  
  
"Well, let's see..." Elladan replied, throwing back the curtains, allowing sunlight to flood the room, "If it's about half past eleven right now," he said, looking at the position of the sun, "then it will be about two, no wait, three days now since you fell asleep." he said, trying to sound as serious as possible.   
  
"Three days?!" Elrohir asked dumbfounded. He took a good look at his twin's face and noticed how hard he was trying to keep from smiling. He gave him a sideways look, "You're lying." he said, daring Elladan to tell him otherwise. "I would have been able to tell if I'd really slept for that long."  
  
"Ah, but it's not always easy to tell how long one has slept, once they wake up from a drug induced sleep." Elladan said, no longer able to suppress his trademark mischievous grin.   
  
"What are you talking about? I wasn't drugged...?" Elrohir said, uncertainty clearly showing through his voice.  
  
Elladan nodded at the cup of water sitting on Elrohir's night stand. "Yeah, that's what you think, 'Ro," he laughed.  
  
Elrohir eyed the cup on his night stand angrily and then looked accusingly back at his brother. "Elladan!" he threw the covers off him, jumped out of bed, and ran at his brother. He couldn't believe how refreshed and full of energy he felt. He threw himself at Elladan, knocking him to the ground and then pinned him down. Elladan would have fought back but he was laughing too hard.   
  
"Oh, you think it's funny, do you?" Elrohir asked angrily. "Yeah, I'll give you something to laugh about, you villain!" He tickled his brother mercilessly and unrelentingly. Elladan's laughter was reduced to silent gasps and he was too weak to even struggle.   
  
"Stop!—'Ro!—please!" Elladan gasped.  
  
Elrohir stopped and looked at his brother who had tears forming in his eyes. "That was payback for cheating out on the field yesterday. It was just yesterday, wasn't it, Ell?" he said accusingly. He noticed the trouble his brother was having breathing and decided that since he was probably the reason for that, as he was sitting on his chest, now would probably be a good time to get off him. He got up and sat on the floor next to his twin, while Elladan lay there gasping and laughing between breaths.   
  
"Ah, 'Ro, you're so easy to provoke," Elladan said once he had enough breath in him to talk.   
  
Elrohir narrowed his eyes, but decided not to take the bait, as that would immediately prove his brother's point. He waited for an explanation from his twin.  
  
"Yes, it was just yesterday that we fought out on the field, and no, I didn't really drug your water," Elladan said smiling. "Honestly, 'Ro, sometimes your gullibility amazes me," he said, shaking his head.  
  
Elrohir grabbed a pillow that was lying next to him on the floor and threw it at his brother. "I'm not gullible, Elladan. You're just hideously deceiving."  
  
Elladan was still smiling widely, "Yes, I've always thought that was one of my finer traits," he said with mock arrogance. "Don't you ever feel a bit...inferior, 'Ro? I mean, knowing you got robbed of all the good genes, and then having to live with a superior brother like me? I know I would be jealous if I were you."  
  
Elrohir shook his head, grinning at his brother's loveable sense of humor. "I don't think I would necessarily call 'deceptiveness' a superior trait, Ell," He answered, whacking his brother once again in the face with a pillow, and thus beginning a massive pillow fight.   
  
Finally, after several minutes of swinging, whacking, dodging, and blocking, the twins lay on the ground amidst the pillows, exhausted but happy. They were both silent for a while, staring at the ceiling, lost in their own thoughts. After a few minutes Elrohir leaned on his elbow and looked over at his brother. "Elladan, what did you tell Ada when I was absent at supper last night?"  
  
"Just that you wanted to retire to bed early," Elladan replied, still looking up at the ceiling. "He thought nothing of it, 'Ro."  
  
Elrohir nodded, satisfied. "Speaking of being absent at supper," he went on, "I'm starving."  
  
"I should think so," Elladan said, now looking up at his twin, "You wouldn't eat yesterday, you foolish elf. Don't you know you need food to live?"  
  
Ignoring his brother's sarcastic remark, Elrohir said, "I'm going to the kitchens, Ell," Elrohir said, getting to his feet. "Care to join me?" he asked, offering his hand to help his brother up.  
  
Elladan took his brother's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Nah," he replied, "I've already eaten. But meet me out on the training field once you're done, won't you?"  
  
"Yeah, sure, but you better be in a good mood once I get out there," Elrohir replied.  
  
"Why?" Elladan asked curiously.  
  
"Because I don't want to witness one of your horrendous temper tantrums when you lose," Elrhoir teased.  
  
Elladan snorted, "In your dreams, 'Ro!" Whoops, he thought. I shouldn't have said that.   
  
Elrohir however, was still smiling when he playfully shoved his brother out his bedroom door.  
  
* * *  
  
After a most satisfying breakfast, Elrohir found himself making his way out to the training field to meet his waiting brother. He walked through the beautiful halls of Rivendell feeling refreshed and alert and much more at ease with himself after the talk he had had with Elladan earlier that morning about his dream. It comforted Elrohir the way Elladan had taken the news of the disturbing dream so lightly, and brushed it off as it were worth about as much concern as a pesky fly. Even if Elladan really did take the dream seriously and just pretended on the surface that he didn't, so as to not get Elrohir more worked up than he already was, Elrohir was still grateful to him, and found his carefree attitude reassuring and comforting. But despite his brother's feelings about the dream, they did little to ease Elrohir's own feelings that it still meant something and shouldn't be dismissed as carelessly at Elladan insisted it should. And furthermore, the dream still scared him, and nothing Elladan could say would erase the image of him lying helpless and abandoned in the rain. Valar, I need to stop stressing over this so badly. It's just a stupid dream, Elrohir told himself for at least the hundredth time. Elladan is safe here in Imladris and he isn't planning on going anywhere any time soon, so there's no need to worry. I just wish that the dream would stop coming to me every night.  
  
Once out on the training field, Elrohir spotted his brother at the other end of the field, caught up in an archery contest with one of their good friends, Finleann. Finleann was an admirable elf, and a loyal friend, not much older than the twins, and quite skilled with his bow. Apparently he was winning, because Elladan wasn't looking too happy at the moment. Elrohir quickly made his way over to them.  
  
"Greetings, Lord Elrohir!" Finleann called to him, smiling.   
  
"Hey, Finleann!" Elrohir said, smiling in return. He took his bow off his shoulder, preparing to compete. Pulling an arrow out of his quiver, he examined it absent-mindedly. "Call me that again, Finleann, and you just might find this arrow sticking most unpleasantly out of your eye," he threatened jokingly.  
  
Finleann laughed. He knew the twins hated it when they were addressed by close friends as "Lord" or "Master" or anything to that effect, but since it always evoked a reaction, he couldn't help but do it every once in a while.  
  
"How goes the contest?" Elrohir asked looking at his brother. "I take it you're not doing too well, Elladan?" he said, trying not to sound too amused.  
  
"As a matter of fact, Elrohir, I'm doing just fine," Elladan said angrily, "Better than you could ever hope to do."  
  
"Is that so?" Elrohir raised his eyebrows. Accepting his brother's challenge, he notched his arrow in the string of his bow, and, carefully taking aim, he let it fly. It soared straight through the air and landed precisely where he meant it to: exactly where his twin's arrow had been in the target, only now it was spit in two  
  
Elrohir looked back to his brother with a triumphant look on his face, "Yeah, what was that you were just saying, Ell?"  
  
Both Elladan and Finleann gawked at Elrohir, and then started laughing and patting him on the back. "That was amazing 'Ro!" Elladan exclaimed, his anger forgotten.  
  
"Valar, I didn't think that was possible!"  
  
Elrohir smiled, feeling quite smug, while Elladan and Finleann both picked up their bows, fitting an arrow to the string, determined to copy what Elrohir had just done.  
  
The three elves spent the rest of the afternoon out on the training field, eventually getting tired of their many failed attempts to split another arrow, and moving on to swordplay. Gradually the sky began to fade to a brilliant orange hue, reflecting off the roofs and walls of Rivendell, and the surrounding cliffs and waterfalls, making all of Imladris appear as if it were carved in gold. It was a breathtaking, beautiful moment each evening when the sun went down in Imladris, and the three young elves stopped what they were doing to watch.   
  
"Come, Elrohir," Elladan said once it was over. "Ada will be waiting for us to join him for supper."  
  
Elrohir nodded then looked to Finleann, "Care to join us, Finleann?"  
  
"Hm?" Finleann asked, his thoughts still lost in the sunset, a look of content etched across his fair face.  
  
"Supper? You know, the meal that's usually eaten at about this time of day?" Elrohir said, smiling.  
  
Finleann looked back to the twins, "Ah, yes I'd be honored to join the Peredhil household for supper," he said smiling.  
  
"It's just me, 'Ro, and Ada," Elladan explained. "Naneth and Arwen are visiting Lothlorien for a few months."  
  
Finleann nodded and together they set off, with Elladan in the middle, joking and laughing, his arms draped over the other two's shoulders.   
  
* * *  
  
"It was amazing, Ada! I've never seen the likes of it of before! A perfect split, right down the center, wasn't it Finleann?" Elladan was bragging at the dinner table about the remarkable shot his twin made that afternoon.   
  
Finleann nodded his agreement, while Elrohir smiled, rather embarrassed.  
  
"It wasn't that amazing, Ada," Elrohir said as his twin beamed at him, "I bet Glorfindel could split an arrow while blindfolded."   
  
Elrond smiled proudly at his youngest son, more impressed with his modesty then with the actual shot itself. "Ah, my sons...You really are blossoming into fine warriors."  
  
"Blossoming?" Elladan asked with a laugh. "No, no, no, Ada," he said shaking his head, "Blossoming is not a word to describe a warrior with. I believe a more appropriate phrase would be something like...uh...'hacking your way into fine warriors,' or something like that..." he finished rather lamely.  
  
Everyone laughed.   
  
"Yes, Elladan, that's a much better way of putting it," Elrohir said sarcastically, smiling at his brother.  
  
With that the conversation had a bit of a break, while everyone reverted their attention back to their plates. They were still smiling, however, and greatly enjoying one another's company.  
  
After a few minutes Elrond broke the silence by saying, "Boys, would you be interested in running an important errand for me?"  
  
The twin's faces snapped up to look at their father.  
  
"Yes," they said simultaneously.   
  
"What do you need us to do?" Elrohir asked quickly.  
  
"Where do you want us to go?" Elladan asked, talking at the same time as his twin. They couldn't contain their excitement at being offered (by their father!) the chance to go outside of Imladris by themselves, with no escort, entrusted with an important task that they must accomplish. The twins glanced at each other, beaming, sensing the other's excitement.  
  
Elrond laughed, seeing his sons' obvious excitement. "Slow down," he told them, "I'll explain what I need you to do."  
  
The twins listened intently as their father explained to them that the elves of Lothlorien were requesting a new supply of special medical herbs that Elrond possessed in his stores, and how the twins would be responsible for getting the medicine to them.  
  
"We get to go all the way to Lothlorien, unescorted!" Elrohir exclaimed to his brother.  
  
"Don't be silly," Elrond said, "Lothlorien is one-hundred and sixty leagues away! It would take you two weeks just to get there."  
  
The twin's smiles faded a little. "But Ada, you just said—"  
  
"Yes, I know," Elrond cut him off, still smiling, and went on, "There's a small group of Lorien elves that are returning home from a visit to the Grey Havens port, and I thought it would be a good idea to have you meet them at the Ford of Bruinen in two day's time and give them the medicine there, rather than having to have someone travel all the way from Rivendell to Lothlorien, or vice versa."  
  
The twins nodded, seeing the logic behind their father's explanation.  
  
"So, the Ford is what, about seven leagues away?" Elladan asked.  
  
Elrond nodded.  
  
"That's not bad," said Elrohir, "Almost a full day's journey."  
  
Elladan suddenly remembered Finleann, who had been sitting silently throughout the whole discussion.   
  
"What about Finleann, Ada?" Elladan asked, "Can he come too?"  
  
"Finleann is more than welcome to accompany you, if he so wishes," Elrond replied.  
  
Finleann nodded, looking excited as well, "It would be an honor to journey with you, my friends."  
  
"You will leave around noon tomorrow and camp out at the fords tomorrow night, and on the following day, you will wait there until the Lorien elves cross your path." Elrond explained to them.  
  
The boys nodded their understanding. They stood up and Finleann took his leave, thanking them for supper and agreeing to meet the twins at the stables at noon the following day.  
  
The twins looked at each other with identical smiles. "Let's go get our packs ready, 'Ro," Elladan said. They started to get up but were interrupted by their father.  
  
"Wait," Elrond told them, "I'm not through talking to you yet." He motioned for them to sit back down, and reluctantly the twins obeyed.  
  
"Yes, Ada?" Elorhir asked, hoping whatever his father had to say would be brief.  
  
Elrond took a breath. "I know you two are old enough now and quite capable of taking care of yourselves," he paused for a moment, "but even knowing that does not lessen the worry a father feels when his sons step out of the boundaries of his protection," again he paused, thinking of what to say next, "I know there is a point in every parent's life," he continued, "when they need to step back and let their children go; let them explore and learn and experience new things on their own. The time for your independence has come, my sons. If all goes well with this task I've appointed to you, then you shall be free to go wherever you wish, according to your hearts' desires." He looked both of his sons in the face, studying them. "Know this my sons," he said looking them in the eyes, "I love you both very much, and I thank the Valar everyday that I was blessed with both of you. And though you still have much growing to do, it is clear to me that you are destined for great and noble deeds. I ask only this of you: Please, throughout whatever adventures that may lie ahead of you, stay true to each other, and protect each other; keep each other safe. For there is nothing more precious to a man than his brother, even more so if he is a twin. Believe me, I know this," a look of great sadness flashed across his face as he remembered his own lost twin. "Do not lose each other." He stopped talking and looked down.  
  
The twins went to their father and embraced him tightly. "Thank you, Ada," they said, "We will always watch out for each other." The love they felt for their father was so immense at that moment, it made their identical eyes glisten and shine.   
  
* * *  
  
Later that evening the twins began preparing themselves for their journey in Elladan's bedroom. Their packs lay open on the floor amidst various articles of clothing and weapons and food items. They smiled the whole time they packed, and chatted excitedly about the plans they had for the future now that they had their new "independence." Once they were done packing, Elladan went out on his balcony for a breath of fresh air while Elrohir sprawled across his brother's bed, exhausted but feeling happier than ever. My brother and I have just been granted freedom to roam Middle Earth as we please, and tomorrow we are embarking on our first journey by ourselves. Even if it is a rather small one, it will still be great, Elrohir thought to himself. Ah, nothing could spoil this great happiness I'm feeling.  
  
As if in answer to that thought, Elladan suddenly called to his brother from outside on the balcony. "Hey, 'Ro."  
  
"What?" Elrohir replied tiredly.  
  
"I think we'd better pack our heavier traveling cloaks."  
  
"Why?" Elrohir asked, not really that interested.  
  
"Because the trees whisper of a coming rain storm," Elladan answered.  
  
Elrohir was about to answer with a simple "okay," or "no problem," when suddenly the meaning of his brother's words hit him like a ton of bricks. He gasped audibly and sat up on his brother's bed quickly, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. Rain. Darkness. Elladan. The Dream! No, he thought. This can't be happening. We're leaving tomorrow! Ah, Elbereth, what do I do?! I can't let my brother leave Imladris, for if I do, then surely that dream will come to pass!  
  
Elrohir was breathing rapidly and his eyes were constantly shifting their gaze as he tried quickly and desperately to form a plan that would keep his brother home, while still allowing Finleann and himself the opportunity to leave and accomplish the task their father had appointed to him.   
  
I'm sorry, my brother, Elrohir thought to himself, But this is one camping trip I simply cannot allow you to go on...  
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

Erohir found himself once again staring at the ceiling in his brother's bedroom, lost in thought and unwilling to fall asleep. It was late and Elladan had been asleep for at least an hour now. He could hear the steady, gentle breathing of his brother beside him. He rolled over onto his side and examined the sleeping face of his twin. Ah, Elladan, he thought, what am I going to do? I never thought that the dream could be a premonition, but now with our sudden decision to leave Rivendell tomorrow, and the news of a coming rain, I'm sure that my dream is a vision of the near future. That is, the future if I were to allow you to leave tomorrow. And so that is why, Ell, I can't let you come. I just can't risk your safety. Even if I am jumping to conclusions.  
  
He would have said those words out loud to his twin, but he knew Elladan would just laugh and call him crazy and refuse to stay behind. And so Elrohir recited those words to himself, as a small means of comfort and reassurance.  
  
But, what is going to happen tomorrow? Elrohir wondered to himself. Even if Elladan is not there, what will happen to me and Finleann? He thought hard about that and started to get a little worried. If something were to happen to Elladan tomorrow, wouldn't something also have to happen to him and Finleann as well? After all, they would be together the whole time. But then he shook his head thinking, Finleann and I will be fine...because...well, because I didn't see either of us in my dream, only Elladan. And so, only Elladan should have to stay behind. He contented himself with that thought and then set his mind to devising a way of exactly how he would accomplish this.  
  
He thought of several scenarios in which at the last minute he would tell Elladan he forgot something important, such as their water pouches, or their hunting knives, and ask Elladan to go back and get them, and then hurry and slip away while he was gone. But then shook himself mentally, thinking how stupid he was to even consider a plan like that working. He couldn't just slip away because Finleann would be with him, and even if Finleann agreed to, Elladan would just end up catching up with them, and he would most likely be quite angry and confused, realizing that Elrohir had in fact forgot nothing, and had just tried to give him the slip.  
  
Elrohir sighed, realizing there was only one way he could think of that would make sure his brother stayed behind: I'm going to have to knock him out, he thought, suddenly feeling guilty. But it's for his own good, he reassured himself. He'll understand once I get back and explain everything to him. He'll be extremely angry, yes, but he will eventually understand. After all, I'm sure he would do the same thing to me if our positions were reversed. I just can't risk having that dream become reality. It's haunted me for too long, and to just sit back and do nothing about it when the signs are too obvious is out of the question.  
  
Elrohir rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, thinking for a moment. He decided he would head to his father's medicine stores and get the drug he needed to put Elladan to sleep with now, so as to not risk his twin witnessing him in the act of it tomorrow. He stood up and had only taken a couple steps towards the door when a tired voice suddenly broke through the silence and startled him.  
  
"'Ro?" Elladan mumbled, still half-asleep.  
  
Elrohir turned around and saw his twin squiniting up at him through the darkness. "Oh hey, Ell," he said quietly, disappointed that he had woken his twin.  
  
"Where ya goin'?" Elladan asked, his speech a bit slurred. He propped himself up on an elbow and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.  
  
"I'm just going to get a drink, Ell. Shh, go back to sleep." Elrohir whispered.  
  
"But 'Ro," Elladan said, waking up a little, "there's a cup of water on my nightstand, why not drink that?" it was obvious he didn't believe his twin.  
  
"Uh," Elrohir said, thinking quickly, "I don't feel like water," What a lame excuse, he thought to himself.  
  
"'Ro, you're not sleeping again," Elladan said, sounding worried. "Did that dream come to you tonight? Maybe you should tell Ada about it. In fact, maybe you shouldn't go tomorrow. I'm worried about you 'Ro. Something about this dream has got you really worked up. You never really told me any details about it."  
  
Maybe I shouldn't go tomorrow? Elrohir thought, incredulously. "Look, Ell," he said, sounding more annoyed than he meant to, "I'm not awake because of that stupid dream," he lied, "and I'm not going to tell Ada about it, because there's nothing to tell, really. And furthermore, I'm not staying home tomorrow, so why would you even suggest that?" he asked, feeling even more guilty and quite hypocritical that he was getting mad at Elladan for suggesting he not go, when he himself was going to make Elladan stay.  
  
"Okay," said Elladan holding his hands up to show he meant no offense. "Sorry. Didn't mean to make you mad. But, really 'Ro, if you're coming tomorrow, you need to get some sleep. It won't do you any good to travel when you can hardly keep your eyes open."  
  
Elrohir nodded, "Okay, I know. Sorry I snapped at you. I'll be right back, okay? Just go back to sleep now."  
  
Elladan stared at his twin for a moment more, wondering at his suspicious behavior. However, he was too tired at the moment to dwell on the matter, and so he gave a faint shrug and sank his head back into his pillow.  
  
Satisfied, Elrohir quietly left his brother's bedroom and headed down the hall towards the healing chambers.  
  
The healing chambers were two identical rooms across the hall from each other at the northern end of Rivendell. They both contained two large beds with white linens, and white flowing curtains that covered the windows, creating a peaceful glow in the daytime. It was in these rooms that Elrond tended to the sick and wounded that required his special attention. Elrond was an expert healer, and news of his skills had spread far from Rivendell throughout all of Middle Earth. Oftentimes, members of the other races would bring sick or injured loved ones to Rivendell, pleading with Elrond to save them. Elrond always complied and would set to work doing all that he could to heal the unfortunate ones. In most cases, he was successful. Come to think of it, Elrohir couldn't rightly think of a time when his father hadn't been successful.  
  
He suddenly realized he had gone off on a tangent, and what he really needed to be focused on right now, was getting the drug that would be used to put Elladan to sleep. He made his way to the back of one of the healing rooms, and started rummaging through the cabinet that contained his father's medical herbs.  
  
Ah, here it is! Elrohir said to himself triumphantly, holding a twisted root of some sort in front of his face so he could examine it. One should do it, he thought. How long will it put him out for? A day, maybe? That's long enough, he told himself.  
  
He silently left the healing chambers and made his way back to Elladan's bedroom, where he found his twin fast asleep and oblivious to his presence. A ray of moonlight slipped through a crack in the curtains and fell across Elladan's face, making it appear as if he were glowing. Elrohir couldn't help but notice how noble and fair it made his brother look. He looks like one of the Valar, Elrohir thought. He studied his brother's sleeping face for a moment longer, when suddenly, he felt another pang of guilt, thinking of how he was going to deceivingly knock him out tomorrow.  
  
Elrohir sighed and crept over to where his brother's pack lay on the floor. He found his water pouch attached to the outside of the pack and already filled with water. Feeling guiltier than ever, he pulled out the stopper and began mashing the root and forcing it into opening. Once he got it all in there, he shook the pouch until the root dissolved. He then replaced the water pouch on his brother's pack and stood up, thinking about what he had just done. Oh well, he thought. I had to do it. Forgive me, Elladan.  
  
He walked over to his brother's bed and climbed in beside him. He noticed for the first time how tired he was. Yawning, he pulled the covers over his shoulder and shut his eyes. He was asleep in moments.  
  
* * *  
  
The morning dawned bright and beautiful in Imladris, and Elladan awoke to the sound of singing birds and a light breeze outside his window. He sat up, excitement coursing through him as he remembered what was taking place that day. As usual, he was awake before Elrohir, and he glanced over to see his brother lying beside him, still dead to the world. He contemplated whether or not he should wake him just yet. Ah, why not? he thought. He reached over and shook his twin.  
  
"Hey, 'Ro, wake up."  
  
Elrohir stirred slightly and mumbled something incoherently. He obviously was not ready to get up yet.  
  
"Aw, come on, 'Ro," Elladan pleaded, shaking him harder, "It's time to get up. Please?"  
  
Elrohir tried to shrug off the hand that was shaking him but to no avail. "Please, Ell," he mumbled, "go away."  
  
Elladan was quickly losing his patience. He grabbed a nearby pillow and swung it at his stubborn twin as hard as he could, causing Elrohir to roll over onto his side and glare at his twin through half-closed eyelids.  
  
"What's your problem, Ell?" Elrohir asked, trying his hardest to keep his temper in check.  
  
"My 'problem,' 'Ro, is that I have a lazy sluggard for a little brother who can't get up in the morning to save his life!" Elladan told him, pretending to be angry when they both really knew he was just trying to start another round of playful banter.  
  
"Yeah, that's right," Elrohir replied, once again playing along, "and since my life doesn't seem to be in any apparent danger at the moment, I think I'll just stay in bed for a while longer."  
  
Elladan gave him a look that plainly said, Give me a break. He was grinning however, and looked upon the situation of getting his brother out of bed as a challenge. Elrohir had turned his back to his twin and was quickly falling back asleep, when Elladan suddenly and swiftly pushed Elrohir right off the edge of the bed, sending his pillow and half the covers with him.  
  
Elrohir peered up into the laughing face of his brother looking down at him over the edge of the bed. He shook his head, a slight grin on his face. He couldn't help but smile a little when his twin found something so funny, even if it was at his expense.  
  
"Nice move, Ell," Elrohir said sarcastically, still lying flat on his back on the floor. "Alright, you win, Orc. I'm up," He started getting to his feet when he suddenly caught sight of his brother's pack and the water pouch attached to it, and the memory and guilt of the previous night's events came rushing back to him. Oh, Valar, he thought, I forgot I'm drugging my brother today.  
  
"What were you doing up last night?" Elladan asked him, still sitting on the bed.  
  
Elrohir was caught slightly off-guard. "Last night? Uh, I told you, remember?"  
  
Elladan eyed him suspiciously, "You told me you were going to get a drink, but when I offered you my water you said you didn't feel like it."  
  
Elrohir was surprised that his twin could remember their conversation so clearly when he seemed to be quite out-of-it at the time.  
  
"What did you feel like 'Ro?" Elladan went on, "some wine, perhaps? Maybe some fresh-squeezed juice? I don't know about you 'Ro, but I don't know too many people who get up at two in the morning to go and squeeze an orange." He could tell he was making his brother a little uncomfortable and decided to back off a bit. "Shades, Elrohir, you've been so secretive lately. And we never keep secrets from each other. You've just been worrying me a bit, that's all. You know you can tell me anything, right? At anytime. I'll always listen."  
  
Elrohir remained silent, biting his lip. He was feeling guiltier by the second. Maybe I should just tell him about the dream, and why I don't want him to leave today. Maybe he would understand and would agree to stay behind without an argument, he thought. But then he realized, Wait, this is Elladan I'm talking about. There's no way he would agree to stay behind without an argument. No, I'm not going back on my plans. His water is already drugged, and everything's going to go as smoothly as planned.  
  
Elrohir didn't notice Elladan examining him closely, reading his face.  
  
"It's that blasted dream isn't it?" Elladan asked, nodding slowly. "You had it again last night, didn't you?"  
  
Elrohir pasted a fake smile on his face, hoping it would reassure his twin. "No, Ell," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "I slept like a baby last night." In actuality, he had had the dream last night, but it didn't frighten him as much as it normally did. Perhaps it was because he reassured himself by remembering the drugged water pouch, and how because of it, his brother would not be going anywhere, and therefore, the dream would never come to pass.  
  
"Come, Ell," Elrohir said reaching out to put his arm around his brother, and quickly changing the subject. He did not want his older twin to be suspicious of him today of all days, when he really was up to something. "Let's go and get some breakfast. There is still much to do before we can depart."  
  
He walked Elladan to the door, and together they headed towards the kitchens.  
  
* * *  
  
The morning passed slowly and Elrohir found himself getting more and more nervous by the minute. He was dreading the moment when his brother would take a sip of that drugged water and slowly, yet surely, slip away into darkness. He didn't really know how long the drug would take to take effect, but he didn't imagine it would be too long. They would be agonizing minutes for him, however, having to watch his confused and bewildered twin wonder what on earth was going on. He sighed, willing himself to believe it was the only way to keep his twin safe.  
  
After washing up and dressing, and dealing with all other minor details that required their attention before they could leave, the twins were finally ready to depart. They found themselves in the stables at half past eleven, preparing their horses and waiting for Finleann to come and meet them.  
  
Now's the time, Elrohir thought to himself after securing his pack behind his horse's saddle. He took a deep breath and then detached his water pouch from his pack. Shades, why am I so nervous? he asked himself. It's not like I'm causing Elladan any harm. I'm saving him from it. He'll understand that when he wakes up. And then suddenly Elrohir realized what was causing his immense anxiety. It's because this is the first time I've ever been truly dishonest with my brother, he told himself. He felt so bad deceiving his twin like this, but he knew he had to. His brother meant too much to him for him not to do anything. He couldn't risk letting the dream come true.  
  
"Hey, Ell," Elrohir said walking over to his brother, his water pouch in hand. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said smiling, hoping like no other that his twin wouldn't see right through him, as he so often did.  
  
Elladan looked at his brother for a moment and then smiled. "Alright, 'Ro," he said, detaching his own water pouch from his pack, "To what?" he asked, excitement for the coming journey still shining in his eyes.  
  
"To our new independence," Elrohir said, holding his water pouch out in the air in front of him. "May the roads we travel together bring us great...uh...great health, and...and happiness, and...adventure!" Darn, he thought, that speech could have been a lot better, had I thought of it beforehand.  
  
Elladan nodded to his twin, still smiling widely, and they both raised their water pouches to their lips and drank deeply.  
  
As Elladan lowered his pouch, after having taken a good long drink, he immediately noticed the apprehensive look on his twin's face. He cocked his head slightly, still smiling, and asked, "What is it 'Ro? Why are you so pale all of a sudden?" His smile faded a little.  
  
Elrohir didn't say anything, he just chewed on his lower lip and continued to watch his brother with concern and worry etched all over his face.  
  
Elladan wasn't smiling anymore. "'Ro?" he asked, "What is it?"  
  
Suddenly the room began to swim in front of him, shapes and colors blurring together. He shook his head, wondering what was going on. He felt extremely dizzy and light-headed and couldn't get his thoughts to focus. He searched for his brother's face, but he couldn't seem to find it in the mass of blurriness before him. What is happening to me...? he wondered to himself, frantically. He didn't notice his knees hitting the floor.  
  
"'Ro..." he managed to get out, "...why?" He slumped down to the floor of the stables, unconsciousness finally claiming him.  
  
Feeling worse than ever, Elrohir knelt down beside his motionless twin and slowly turned him over, cradling him in his arms. His breaths were light and steady, and his pulse was as it should be. Everything was okay.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Elladan," He whispered to his unconscious brother, brushing a strand of dark hair out of his face. "But I had to. Please forgive me."  
  
He lifted his brother easily and held him in his arms, his limp limbs draped uselessly towards the floor.  
  
Well, thought Elrohir, now that that's taken care of, what to do with the body? He almost laughed at that, thinking of how much he sounded like a psychopathic killer, or something, but then he suddenly remembered how unfunny the situation really was, and didn't even crack a smile. I can't ty to sneak him back home, he told himself, for that will attract too much attention. And I can't just leave him outside somewhere, because then I can't be assured of his safety.  
  
After thoroughly thinking through all his options, Elrohir decided the best place to leave his unconscious brother would be in his horse's empty stall. He felt bad about the conditions he would be leaving his brother in, but decided it was still the best option.  
  
He carried the limp form of his brother over to the stall and peeked in to examine the cleanliness. The stables at Rivendell were usually kept in great condition, and today was no exception. The stall looked very clean and a large pile of fresh hay was stacked in the corner. Thinking the hay would serve as a nice bed, Elrohir gently set his brother down on top of it and stepped back to examine him. He looked so peaceful. He always looks peaceful when he's asleep, Elrohir thought to himself. Isn't it odd that you can't tell a person's real personality when you examine them in their sleep, because Elladan is anything but peaceful...He's an orc. A sad smile appeared on his lips as he thought about his brother. Ah, Elladan, he thought to himself, what would I do without you? He was feeling a bit better, knowing that he had foiled his dream and made it impossible to come true. His unconscious brother in front of him was proof of that.  
  
"Here you'll stay, Ell," he whispered to his sleeping twin, "safe and sound, until the rain passes, and until I return the day after tomorrow to explain everything."  
  
Elrohir suddenly realized he had to hurry, remembering Finleann's promise to meet them at the stables at noon. He quickly stood up and hurriedly took the pack, saddle, and bridle off of Elladan's horse and led him back into his stall. Picking up his brother's pack, he tossed it into the stall where Elladan slept and quickly shut the door. No longer than a minute after he had done all this, Finleann showed up, true to his word, at twelve o' clock precisely.  
  
"Hey, Finleann!" Elrohir called to him, raising a hand in greeting.  
  
Finleann waved back, making his way past the numerous stalls of horses to where his friend was patiently waiting.  
  
"Hello, uh..." Finleann felt embarrassed every time he had to greet one of the twins when he wasn't sure which one it was he was talking to.  
  
Elrohir laughed, and for the most part it was a genuine laugh; not too forced, considering the circumstances. "Elrohir," he finished for his friend, not feeling the least bit offended that Finleann couldn't tell them apart. After all, not many people could tell him and Elladan apart. Most of the time they could even fool Arwen with an identity switch.  
  
"Sorry, friend," Finleann said smiling, "You two are just so identical, I can't tell you apart without seeing you together in different outfits. I hope that doesn't offend."  
  
"Of course not, Finleann," Elrohir replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "I was just thinking to myself how difficult it sometimes is for our own little sister to tell us apart," he laughed.  
  
Finleann smiled back, and then, seeing the fact that Elrohir's horse was the only one prepared, and Elladan was nowhere in sight, he asked, "Where is your brother, anyway?"  
  
"Elladan? Oh, well, he decided not to come after all," a look of discomfort flitted across Elrohir's face. He was so sick of telling nothing but lies. It isn't like me to act like this, he told himself. But, he thought, for the safety of Elladan I would be willing to do anything.  
  
"He did?" Finleann's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "That's odd. He sounded so excited about leaving last night."  
  
"Yeah, well," Elrohir tried desperately to think of a valid excuse, "He decided he was feeling too tired for a journey, after all." Could that count as a half-truth? Elrohir wondered to himself.  
  
"Hmm," Finleann said, a puzzled expression on his face. It was clear he didn't suspect Elrohir was lying to him, he was just puzzled about the other twin's decision not to come. It didn't seem like Elladan at all. "You're sure he didn't want to come?" Finleann asked, still not quite willing to accept it.  
  
"Yeah, he made it pretty clear," Elrohir said, desperate to get a move on. "You want me to help you get horse ready?" he asked, anxious to change the subject.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Finleann replied, the puzzled expression fading quickly from his face.  
  
Together they prepared Finleann's horse for the journey and once they finished, they led their horses outside the stable and into the bright afternoon.  
  
"Well, 'Ro," Finleann said as they mounted their horses simultaneously, "This is going to be one fun camping trip," he said smiling, "Elladan's certainly going to be missing out."  
  
"Yeah," Elrohir replied, an uneasy smile on his face. He will be missing out, he thought to himself, noting the irony in what Finleann had just said. Just exactly what it is he'll be missing out on, we'll just have to find out, won't we? he thought to himself. Valar, he prayed silently, please don't let anything bad happen to us. But even as he thought the words, he couldn't help the heavy feeling of foreboding that suddenly bore down upon him, making him feel more apprehensive than ever.  
  
They rode on under the vast blue sky and towering cliffs of Imladris. The day was still beautiful and birds were still singing merrily all about them. The light breeze that had fluttered through the curtains of Elladan's bedroom that morning had picked up its pace and was now whistling through Imladris causing great waves to roll, one after another, through the long, green blades of grass surrounding them. Had they been listening to the trees at the moment, they would have noticed that they were no longer whispering of a coming rain storm, but were now talking rather loudly of it. Or had they not been surrounded by steep and ominous cliffs, they would have noticed the black clouds resting on the distant horizon...  
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

The day was rapidly growing darker. Not because of the onset of evening, which was still an hour or two away, but because of the sinister storm that was now completely overtaking the sky. The sun had long since become a prisoner to its darkness, and was now nothing more than a faint glow, suffocating in the immense blackness.   
  
"Those clouds do not look too friendly," Finleann said, nodding at the sky. He was riding side-by-side with Elrohir, keeping the pace slow and steady, since they weren't in too big of a hurry to reach their destination. However, now with the prospect of a rather unpleasant storm hitting them, Finleann was more than willing to speed up the pace, and set up camp before the storm reached them. He urged his horse forward, and noticed Elrohir do the same.  
  
"How observant of you, my friend," Elrohir replied dryly, turning his own eyes towards the darkening sky. He was not in a good mood. He was upset about having left Elladan behind. He was upset about having been so deceitful to his brother and Finleann. And most of all he was upset that he was even on this "fun" camping trip at the moment. He didn't want to be here, and it was not just because of the inevitable rain storm that was heading their way.   
  
The apprehensive feeling that had been with him as he rode out of Rivendell earlier that day had been growing on him all afternoon, and was now heavily weighing against his nerves, pleading with him to be wary of something, to realize that something was not right with his current situation. Other than the coming storm, what else could I possibly have to worry about? Elrohir wondered to himself. The obvious answer to that, of course, was his dream. But I took care of it, Elrohir told himself firmly, desperately trying to convince himself and make his uneasiness go away. That horrible scene will never become a reality! But even as he thought it, he couldn't help but wonder once again about that dream. What would have happened to Elladan that would have caused him to end up all alone and crying in the rain? What could have happened that would have prevented Finleann and him from being there to help his brother? Well, he concluded, I'll never know because Elladan is still in Imladris, sleeping soundly in the stables. But...he thought to himself as a sudden understanding was slowly dawning on him...Of course, Elladan wouldn't have been the cause of that scene in my dream...Something else would have caused it...And while I did foil the dream by leaving Elladan safely behind...I've done nothing to prevent whatever caused his anguish to keep from happening...! Even if Elladan is not here to be the recipient of some evil deed, by just keeping him from being present does nothing at all to stop the actual deed itself from occurring! Elrohir thought to himself frantically, trying not to confuse himself with his sudden realizations. Valar, if only the dream had shown me more! Are Finleann and I in danger?! Shades, why am I such a fool? Why didn't I tell Ada about my dream?  
  
"What troubles you so, Elrohir?" Finleann asked, having noticed the pained expression on Elrohir's face. "It's just a bit of rain, it isn't anything to get so upset about,"  
  
Elrohir looked to Finleann, worry and fear still evident in his eyes. "It isn't the coming rain that has me so upset, Finleann," he said, feeling he had to somehow express what he was feeling. He went on, "An unknown threat has been growing on my mind all afternoon. I try to tell myself it's nothing, but no matter what I just can't shake the feeling..." he felt his troubled mind ease a bit after finally voicing his concerns.  
  
Finleann looked into his friend's troubled face, nodding slowly. "So you have sensed it also," he said in a serious tone.  
  
Elrohir's gray eyes snapped to meet his friend's. "You mean to tell me that you share a similar feeling of foreboding?" he asked, as he drew his horse to a halt.  
  
"Yes, Elrohir," Finleann said, now mirroring the same fear in his eyes, as he also pulled his horse to a stop. "I have also been trying to convince myself that it was just the coming storm that was putting my mind at unease, but it is now clear to me that it is more than just that. An evil lurks nearby..." He whispered the last sentence and turned his gaze to the trees that lay up a steep bank to the left of their path.   
  
The two elves sat still upon their horses, breathing deeply yet silently, hastily scanning the trees for any sign of danger. Their elven vision was keen and sharp and would have been quick to spot anything out of place in the woods. However, their frantic searching brought up no results. Their elven ears listened for any threatening sounds, but they heard nothing, save the distant roar of the Bruinen and the occasional rumble of approaching thunder.  
  
The two companions glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, each questioning the other as to what they should do next. It was Elrohir who spoke.  
  
"Let's move on quickly, Finleann," he said, "If we go fast enough, we could reach the Ford in a little over an hour."  
  
Finleann nodded his consent and they both nudged their horses into a fast trot. As they sped along the path they noticed a thin blanket of fog was beginning to set in. It was at this time that they also felt the first drops of rain. They were light at first, and quite annoying, causing them to blink and squint each time one landed in their eyes. But the increasing rain was very least of their problems.   
  
Something shifted in the trees to their left and immediately caught their attention. They turned their gaze from the road ahead to the woods and they both gasped at what they saw.   
  
"Yrch!" Finleann shouted, as several orcs suddenly burst through the trees, no more than fifty yards away to their left.  
  
Elrohir panicked as he watched the foul creatures emerge from their hiding. Orcs?! he thought frantically. What in Valar's name would orcs be doing so near to our borders?! What do we do?! Stand and defend, or run? These thoughts flashed through Elrohir's confused and panicky mind instantly, as he frantically searched himself for a weapon. He had two long knives strapped to his back next to his quiver of arrows, but his bow was tied with his pack to the horse. Oh, Valar, he thought, as he unsheathed the knives, These are not going to be very useful for fighting while riding horseback.  
  
The horses had also either seen or heard the coming danger because they were now beginning to panic as well. They reared up and turned this way and that, refusing to obey their rider's commands to hold still and face the coming ambush. Running away now would do no good, lest the riders were willing to take an arrow or two to their retreating backs.  
  
It was also becoming increasingly difficult for Elrohir and Finleann to see. The daylight was failing and the rain was steadily increasing, and their cowering, jumpy horses were only making matters worse.  
  
Time seemed to slow down to Elrohir as he turned on his saddle to check on the position of the orcs. He saw it coming but he was in no position to do anything to stop it. His eyes widened in disbelief as he felt something slam against him with such force it threw him backwards, knocking him completely from his horse. He felt a great shooting pain dart up his leg as his right ankle twisted in the stirrup, and when he hit the ground he almost blacked out from more immense pain, completely unrelated to his leg.  
  
He had a brief moment, lying there on the ground, in which he was able to briefly glance down at his body and discover a thick black arrow, protruding cruelly from his left shoulder. The next moment, before the shock he was feeling could even register on his face, Elrohir felt himself jerked about roughly as his horse took an arrow to its rear flank, and immediately bolted out of fear. Elrohir's foot was still firmly tangled in the stirrup, and he was dragged along like a limp rag doll as his horse fled the scene of battle.  
  
His body bumped and bounced along the rough path, receiving a new bruise with each advancing step the horse took. The arrow had long since snapped, leaving the tip and part of the shaft still imbedded deep within his shoulder. And still, the horse dragged Elrohir on, oblivious to his pain and groans of protest. Elrohir couldn't believe his body could take such a beating without passing out yet. As each agonizing second passed he vaguely wished he would black out, or that his horse would stop its mad galloping, or that something, anything, would end his pain.  
  
It almost came as a relief when, as his horse was rounding a particularly sharp turn in the path, Elrohir's foot abruptly slipped free of the twisted stirrup, and his body was thrown down a rather steep bank to the right of the path, where it rolled and bounded down, before landing in an exhausted, limp heap at the bottom.   
  
He lay there in the rain, unmoving, and unwilling to believe what had just happened. The intense pain he felt was dulling his mind and sending his body slowly into shock. His breathing was oddly shallow and quick, and he felt strangely feverish. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Why do I feel so odd...? He wondered vaguely and half-heartedly as he stared blankly into the dark sky and the rain beat a steady rhythm on his face. And then a realization slowly dawned on him, and he laughed faintly. Of course! He thought to himself, his muddled mind close to hysteria. The arrow! It was poisoned! Of course it was poisoned! And being so near to my heart, it couldn't have taken very long for it to spread! he thought to himself. He didn't really know why he found that funny, but he laughed to himself none the less. He was clearly delirious, though he couldn't see it himself. Ah, Elrohir, you fool, he thought to himself, still slightly chuckling. Look at yourself now. Look at how it's going to end for you. You fool! You couldn't even defend yourself. You couldn't even fight. And now you're all alone. And you're going to die alone. What would Elladan think if he could see you like this?   
  
And suddenly, with the thought of his twin, his absurd laughing turned into tears. They burned and stung his eyes and ran in crooked paths down his cheeks. Elladan, he said to himself desperately, We'll never see each other again...  
  
"Forgive me, brother..." he whispered between gasps and sobs. He was crying audibly now, and it was painful for him. The gasping breaths he was forced to take made his wound ache and bleed more freely. He wished he would stop, but he was in such a state of despair and delirium that he couldn't get a hold of himself. And so he lay there, motionless and crying in the pouring rain, wishing his brother were there with him to make his death less painful to accept.   
  
And as he lay there, his delirium passed for a moment and allowed his mind a chance to think clearly. And with his clear mind, he immediately came to yet another sudden and shocking realization.   
  
Darkness. Rain. The dream! he thought to himself, bewildered. This is it...it was me...all along it was me! He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. He cried out in despair. Oh Valar, I truly am a fool, he told himself. His vision began to blur, and the sky above him started to spin. He could feel the black oblivion of unconsciousness creeping up on him, only this time he wasn't so sure if he would ever be able to climb out of it again. His last thoughts were of his twin. Elladan, he thought, I'm so sorry, my brother. You're my best friend; you're part of me. I'll miss you forever.   
  
And as he slipped into the darkness, he couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and then he heard no more...  
  
TBC  
  
___________________________________  
  
A/N: Okay, well, I'm sure all you clever readers predicted this was going to happen, but even if it didn't come as a big surprise, I hope that didn't make it less enjoyable to read. I'm sorry this chapter is considerably shorter than that last three, and still took me over a week to post. I'm going to try to at least get one chapter out each week, and hopefully sometimes two. I hope you're liking this story, and are looking forward to upcoming chapters, because there's more fun stuff coming up! Thanks so much to those that have reviewed. Your input and thoughts are always appreciated. :-) 


	5. Chapter 5

Finleann panted deeply and blinked the sweat and rain out of his eyes. Dodge right. Swing left. Turn. Duck. Stab. Keep breathing. His adrenaline was rushing and his senses were fully alert as he battled against the attacking orcs. There were only seven of them and Finleann was confident he could handle them. After all, he was a highly trained elf, and his opponents were foolish, undisciplined creatures brandishing poorly made weapons, thinking they knew proper battle moves, when really their knowledge of effective fighting was quite pathetic. Finleann moved gracefully, almost cat-like. He seemed to know everything that was going on around him, even behind him, where his eyes could not see. He could sense his enemies' next moves and would quickly duck, or spin, or bring a knife up to counter the blow. He was in control of this fight and there was no chance he was going to allow himself to mess up. Twist. Block. Slice. Keep going.  
  
Finleann gritted his teeth as he forcefully thrust one of his long knives into the neck of the last orc. The orc made a sickening sound, like that of a dying rodent, and slumped forward. As Finleann yanked the knife out he gave the creature a disgusted shove and let it fall into a limp and bleeding heap on the ground.   
  
Finleann heaved a sigh of relief and exhaustion. He was still alive. Adrenaline continued to pulse through his body, and he was still rather shaken-up from the shock he had received inspite of the ambush. He put his hands on his knees and leaned over, taking deep and steadying breaths. His soaked hair fell into his face and plastered against his cheeks and forehead. Rain and sweat trickled down his skin and dripped steadily to the ground.   
  
After several more deep breaths, Finleann suddenly remembered Elrohir. His head snapped up, eyes hastily scanning the area, searching for his friend. He turned around, looking this way and that, but he saw no sign of his friend, only bloody corpses of the orcs he had slaughtered. No sign of the horses could be seen, either.  
  
He had been too distracted by the fight to take notice of anything that happened to Elrohir. He must have still been on his horse when it bolted, Finleann thought. However, that is not like Elrohir to run from a fight, even a life-threatening one at that. Valar, let him be okay.   
  
He squinted through the rain, hoping to see his friend off in the distance.  
  
"Elrohir!" he called, but he knew his voice would not travel far through the rain, and he was not really expecting to receive an answer. What has become of him? he wondered earnestly. Surely he did not run away. Where would he go, back to Rivendell?   
  
"Elrohir!" he called again, somewhat louder. Again, no answer. He whistled, loud and shrill, hoping that one of the horses might hear it and come trotting back; but again, the sound was lost in the storm and went unheeded.  
  
Finleann thought the situation through. If Elrohir was okay, and there really was no sign to indicate that he wasn't, he would most likely head back to Rivendell and inform his father of the ambush that took place so near to their borders. But why would he abandon me? Finleann wondered to himself. Surely he would be concerned for my safety as well, wouldn't he?   
  
He searched the ground around him, hoping to find some sign of which direction Elrohir's horse may have gone in; but the rain had already washed away whatever clues the tracks may have indicated. Frustrated, Finleann ran his hand distractedly through his wet and tangeld hair, trying to come up with a solution.  
  
Perhaps Elrohir is waiting for me ahead on the trail, Finleann said to himself. Or maybe he's going to come back here, hoping to meet me. Perhaps I should wait here then. But just the thought of waiting made Finleann impatient. No, he thought. Something must have happened to Elrohir. Otherwise, he would not have left me here with no answers and only a feeble guess as to where his whereabouts might be.  
  
He decided he would search the area for an hour or so, and if he came up with no results, he would head back to Rivendell and hope to find Elrohir there.  
  
* * *  
  
"You sure you heard shouts?"  
  
"Yes, I'm positive."  
  
"It may have just been the storm, lad. Could be playing tricks on your mind."  
  
"It wasn't the storm, Traven. I just have better hearing than you, old man. They came from this direction."  
  
"You're wasting my time, boy. So what if there were shouts? It's got nothin' to do with us. Come on, we have to get back to camp. Barelus will be wonderin' if we found any meat, and since we didn't he's not going to be very happy."  
  
"Then why are you in such a hurry to get back? I'd rather avoid the wrath of Barelus for as long as possible, if I can."  
  
"Come on, Damus. It's going to take us long enough to get back to camp as it is. And I for one am quite sick of troddin' around in this nasty weather."  
  
"Wait, hold up, Traven. What's that?"  
  
"What's what? I don't see anything."  
  
"That! Up ahead, on the ground. It looks like a person! An injured person!"  
  
The two men quickly approached the unconscious figure lying in the rain, curiosity etched all over their faces. As they got closer Damus gave a small gasp of surprise.  
  
"Traven, it's an elf!" he said, kneeling on the ground so that he could better examine his find. The elf was young, and fair of face, and even as he lay there, unconscious and helpless as he was, Damus couldn't help but notice an air of nobility about the elf. He had a proud look to him. Almost like a warrior, or a prince, or some other figure of importance. He gently lifted the head of the unconscious elf and placed it in his lap, while he scanned the rest of his body, searching for injuries. Traven squatted down beside him and placed his fingers against the elf's neck, searching for a pulse.  
  
"Is he alive?"   
  
"Yes, there's a faint pulse. This fellow ain't dead."  
  
Damus noticed the elf's tunic was soaked with blood. He gently pulled it back to expose the elf's shoulder, searching for the source of the blood. He found it easily, and it was quite a grotesque sight. The elf's skin on his left shoulder was torn and bleeding freely and a thick stick was protruding about a centimeter out from his skin's surface.  
  
"Looks like he took an arrow to his shoulder," Damus said, his brow furrowed "He was lucky it missed his heart." he paused for a moment, then went on, "Who would shoot an elf?"  
  
"Orcs, no doubt. Look at how thick the shaft is. Most likely poisoned as well," Traven said with a slight shrug.  
  
Damus looked at his companion with concern mirrored in his eyes. "Poisoned? Well then, this elf needs medical attention as soon as possible! He could die!"  
  
"So?" Traven said, rather surprised at the concern his younger companion felt over the wounded elf. "What's it to us?"  
  
"Traven, this elf is young. We can't just let him die!" Damus said urgently.  
  
"Yes, he does look young," Traven agreed, "Younger than you. How old would you guess he is?" he asked.  
  
"Sixteen, maybe," Damus said examining the fair face that rested in his lap.  
  
"True, he does look sixteen...in mortal years. But this is an elf we're talking about. My guess is he's lived longer than both of our ages combined." Traven said. "He's had a long enough life. Let him die."  
  
Damus' eyes widened in disbelief at what Traven had just said. "How can you say that? Would you honestly just leave him here, knowing you could have helped him, maybe even saved his life?"  
  
Traven's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Damus, you're a member of a band of outlaws now. You stay soft like this, and you're going to wind up dead much sooner than you'd expect. Understand? This elf is of no use to us. He will do nothing more than be a burden for our men, using up our medicines, and demanding attention and care that we can't afford to give him," he went on, "Yes, it is a shame to just leave a creature to die, especially a fair elf, but we have our own survival to think about." Traven was about to stand up and walk away when Damus replied with a soft voice that was full of desperation and sorrow.  
  
"But think of his family, Traven," he said, his dark eyes glistening. "Think of how much they'll miss him..."  
  
Traven paused, and glanced down, suddenly feeling for his younger companion. He had forgotten how Damus had lost his family a few years back, and how the loss had left a gaping wound in his heart that would never fully heal. Damus was the only one of their band of outlaws who had come from a decent family, and that was most likely the reason he was capable of being sensitive and considerate at a time like this. He half admired the kid for trying his best to be honorable, even though he had thrown his lot in with a bunch a no-count outlaws. But still, just wanting to be honorable is no reason to take on the burden of a wounded elf, he told himself. He was about to tell Damus this when a thought suddenly struck him. 'A family that will miss him...' thought Traven. He mused over that thought for a moment, until something clicked in his brain. A family that will be quite willing to pay a price to get him back. Traven rubbed his bearded chin, as a cunning grin spread across his face.  
  
He turned around to face his companion. "Alright, Damus," he said, trying his best to put a look of understanding on his face. "We'll take the elf back to camp and see what we can do for him."  
  
Damus smiled and looked up at Traven. "Now that's the Traven I know."  
  
Shut up, boy, thought Traven. I have no more honor in me than you have cruelty.  
  
Damus looked from his friend down at the unconscious elf in his arms once more. He noticed that the color had faded from the elf's face, leaving it pale and seemingly lifeless. He put his hand to the elf's forehead and was rather surprised at how hot it felt, contrary to its cold appearance.   
  
"I think you were right about the arrow being poisoned," Damus said anxiously, "The elf's burning up," he paused for a moment, "Do you think we should remove the arrow now?"  
  
"Nah, we'll worry about that once we get to camp," Traven replied, "Pick him up, let's get going. I'll take him when he gets heavy."  
  
Damus gingerly moved the elf's head from his lap and got to his feet. Reaching down, he gently took the elf in his arms, and as he stood back up, he was quite surprised to discover how light the elf was.  
  
"He's not very heavy at all, actually," Damus said. "But, I take it that must be another one of the mysterious qualities of the elves."  
  
Traven gave a faint nod. "Yes, elves are quite the mystery, aren't they?" he agreed, examining the unconscious figure. "You sure you want to carry him like that?" he asked noticing how Damus held the limp elf in front of him in his arms, "It would be easier if you just slung him over your shoulder."  
  
"It would," Damus agreed, shaking strands of damp hair out of his eyes, "but this elf is badly wounded and I don't want to cause him any more harm by being careless."  
  
Traven shrugged his indifference to the matter and turned about, preparing to lead the way back to camp. He hoped against odds that the unconscious elf in his companion's arms might come as some benefit for him and his fellow outlaws. He will, he reassured himself. Even if ransom doesn't end up being an option, Barelus will find something useful to do with the elf. That is, if he doesn't die before the night gives out...  
  
* * *  
  
Finleann brushed the rain out of his eyes in exasperation. His hour-long search was almost up and he had come up with no results. What had happened to Elrhoir? It was as if he had vanished into thin air.   
  
The rain was still coming down in heavy sheets, it was now completely dark, and Finleann was thoroughly frustrated and sick of wandering around in such foul conditions. His clothes were soaked through and clung uncomfortably to his skin, and his hair was wet and tangled and continually fell into his eyes. He brushed it back impatiently for the hundredth time.  
  
Well, he thought after he had returned to his starting point, I guess there's naught more that can be done but to head back to Rivendell. It will take me a good five hours to get there on foot, and that's if I go at a considerable pace. However, it would be pointless to continue on to the Ford without the medical herbs, which are now lost with the horses, and there's no way I'm going on without knowing what happened to Elrohir. Valar, I hope he's okay. I hope I'm not leaving him out here alone and injured somewhere in the rain. But I searched a mile wide radius around the scene of the attack and found nothing. If he were injured, how far could he have gone? Please, Valar, he thought to himself, please let me find him safe and sound when I get back to Rivendell. Then I'll be free to give him an injury as payback for this distress he's putting me through.  
  
Finleann sighed, dreading the long journey that would last until midnight or so, through the unrelenting rain and darkness. He was tired and hungry, and his decision to head back was still slightly irresolute. Not to mention the fact that he was still half scared of another horde of orcs bounding upon him from out of nowhere. But then he shook himself mentally. It would do him no good to despair now. He had a situation to deal with. His friend's fate was unknown and it was up to him to discover whether or not he had safely made it back to Rivendell; and if he hadn't, to let his father and brother know and get a search team out looking for him, if necessary. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his head, staring straight into the extensive night in front of him, showing no fear of anything, be it orcs or not, that lay ahead of him. He impetuously threw his hair back one last time and took a broad step into the darkness.  
  
TBC  
  
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A/N: What's in store for Elrohir, I wonder? Damus doesn't seem too bad but I don't know about Traven...He seems kind of shady, to say the least. And I think it's about time for Elladan to come back into the story, don't you? Well, anyways, there's more good stuff comin' up. Reviews are most welcome, you know ^^ 


	6. Chapter 6

Elladan stirred. It was the first movement he had made throughout his hours of dreamless sleep. He was subconsciously struggling with all his might to fight off the hold of the drugs that had held him unconscious against his will for the last twelve or so hours. He wanted to wake up so badly, to regain his consciousness and awareness, and discover where he was and how he came to be there, for his subconscious couldn't remember anything. He couldn't recall giving his body the go-ahead to fall asleep. He knew he shouldn't be sleeping right now, and he couldn't remember why, and it was driving him crazy. He only knew that he wanted to return to the world of the living so badly. Valar, his subconscious thought, what's keeping me from doing so?!  
  
The drugs continued to course through Elladan's veins in an endless circuit that burned through him and left him paralyzed and dead to the world. They were strong and effective and had done their job of subduing their victim well, yet their potency was beginning to lessen; their hold on their unconscious host was beginning to wain.  
  
Yet, still Elladan continued to drift through nothingness. He saw nothing, no dreams; only a jumbled collection of random thoughts and images that flitted through his mind, containing no meaning or importance. Occasionally, brief scenes from his past would appear in his mind's eye and cause him to believe for a moment that he was really there again, with his twin brother, playing carelessly on a bright Summer's day. But then something in the back of his mind would jerk him back to reality and remind him that he needed to wake up. I'm trying, he thought, but I just can't.  
  
He continued to struggle against the drugs for several more minutes, until finally, his stubborn will overcame theirs and he broke free from their grip.  
  
His eyes slowly slid open. Darkness. He couldn't see anything. Where am I? he wondered vaguely. The drugs had left him rather mixed up and disoriented. He tried to sit up, but found that he couldn't just yet. He noticed he was lying flat on his back on some sort of soft substance. Am I in my bed? he asked himself. Something told him he wasn't, since the atmosphere around him didn't feel like the safe and comfortable one of his bedroom.  
  
Feeling extremely confused and rather alarmed at his current predicament he forced himself to a sitting position, and after doing so, immediately regretted it. Pain rushed to his head, causing his brow to furrow and his eyes to squint shut. He rubbed his forehead for a moment, hoping the pain would lessen enough so that he could open his eyes once more. It did lessen after a minute, and left him feeling extremely dazed and groggy.  
  
By now his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he looked around him, hoping to recognize his surroundings. He could see that he was in a rather small enclosure with a closed door in front of him. What is this I'm sitting on? he wondered again. He felt the course straw under his palms and between his fingers. It's hay! he realized suddenly. I must be in the stables then! The stables...? Then suddenly and abruptly, the memories of the day's earlier events came rushing over him like a wave. The journey to the Ford! 'Ro! The water pouch....drugged!  
  
Elladan doubled over, feeling for a moment as if he were going to be sick. He couldn't tell whether it was an after-effect of the drug, or if it was a result of the shock he had just received in realizing what his brother had done to him.  
  
That little liar! he thought. That little, deceitful, lowdown, rotten liar! What was he thinking?! Why in Valar's name would he pull something like that on me—me! His twin! His best friend!...'I'd like to propose a toast' my eye! He drugged me, Elladan said to himself in exasperated disbelief. I'm going to kill him.   
  
His headache worsened as he tried vainly to think of a purpose for his younger twin's actions. However, he couldn't think of anything that would cause his twin to pull a stunt like that, and he was furious.  
  
He's probably off right now having a great time with Finleann, camping out under the stars, he thought to himself. But then he noticed the faint pitter-patter of rain drops hitting the roof of the stables. Well, he thought bitterly, even if it is raining, they're still probably having fun. Why wouldn't Elrohir let me come? Why?!  
  
And then he remembered the morning of the previous day when his twin had called out his name during an obviously horrifying nightmare. Could that nightmare possibly have something to do with his twin's absurd decision to drug him? What exactly had 'Ro seen in that dream, Elladan wondered. Why didn't he tell me about it? Why did he just leave me here, unconscious, without any explanation or clue as to what was going on? All I know is that he has an awful lot of explaining to do when he gets home. Even if for some unfathomable reason, Elrohir thought he was acting for the better good, I'm still going to kill him. One can't just drug someone, especially their brother, and expect them to be grateful or understanding. No, 'Ro better have a real good reason for this, and he better be willing to accept some payback because I'm definitely going to give it to him.   
  
Elladan was still fuming as he slowly got to his feet. He managed the task, though he still felt very dizzy and disoriented. His mind was still muddled and it was not easy for him to think clearly. His vision was also slightly blurred.  
  
I know what I'll do, thought Elladan, a bitter smirk on his face. I'll go straight to Ada and tell him what Elrohir did. Ada will not be happy at all when he hears that Elrohir was snooping through his medicine stores, and he'll be even further unhappy when he learns that Elrohir used the drugs on me! That'll serve the little weasel right. He'll get what he deserves.  
  
Elladan shook his head, wishing the dizziness would pass. He steadied himself on his feet, struggling not to fall over. He stood still for a moment, taking deep breaths and hoping the side effects of the drug would not last long. He absentmindedly brushed stray pieces of hay from his hair and clothing, and then, deciding he was okay to walk, he opened the gate of the stall and took his first precarious steps towards the entrance of the stables.  
  
* * *  
  
A small smile of relief spread across the rain-streaked face of Finleann as he finally was able to make out the shaded silhouette of Rivendell in the distance. It was very dark; the moon was still completely hidden by rain clouds, but if he strained his eyes, he was sure he could see his home, and it didn't look too far away. Finally, he thought, his mind numbed with fatigue. Just a few hundred more yards, and I'll be home. And then I'll be able to escape this blasted rain storm, and change into a dry tunic...after taking a hot bath, and getting a bite to eat, of course! And then after that I can relax in my nice dry bed...But suddenly he caught himself. I shouldn't be thinking too far ahead, he thought, because I'm not positive that I'm going to find Elrohir here, and if he's not here, well then I'm afraid nobody will be getting any rest tonight. Please Valar, he prayed, please let him be here. Please let him be safe.  
  
And so he trudged on over those last remaining yards towards his home. The rain continued to beat down upon him but he had long since become numb to its annoying persistence. His feet were beginning to ache and his limbs were more than willing to rest, but he pushed on, telling himself with each step that rest was just a couple more ahead.  
  
At last he found himself at the at the entrance of the stables. Just a few more steps, he told himself, and I'll be home. He was just passing the stables by when he suddenly had the idea of checking to see if Elrohir's horse was in its stall. If it is, he thought, then Elrohir will have to be here as well! He turned around and backtracked a couple of steps and was just about to pass into the shadows of the stables, when a familiar personage emerged from the shadows right in front of him.  
  
Finleann blinked, taken back by surprise. Even through the darkness there was no mistaking who it was.  
  
"Elrohir?" he asked, bewilderment registering in his voice. He couldn't believe it. Here, right in front of him, was the one person he was most hoping, while at the same time least expecting, to find.   
  
"Elrohir!" he cried, a grin of relief quickly spreading across his face as the surprise of the situation slowly faded. He pulled his friend into a grateful hug. "You're okay! I can't believe it. I was so worried. Why in Valar's name did you leave me out there? It was seven against one, you idiot! What were you thinking?" But he wasn't really angry. He was alive, and so was Elrohir, and they were both safely back in Rivendell. That was all that mattered.  
  
His friend abruptly broke free from his grasp and for the first time Finleann noticed the expression on his face. It was one of complete confusion, puzzlement, shock, and something that looked faintly like dizziness.  
  
"'Ro? What's wrong?" Finleann asked, his brow furrowed in concern.  
  
His friend's face was screwed up in pain and his fingers were pressing his forehead, as if he had a headache. His eyes were shut and he was taking slow, deep breaths. He swayed on his feet and Finleann reached out to hold him steady.   
  
"'Ro, what is it? Are you injured? Do you need to sit down for a minute? How long have you been here? Why did you leave?" Finleann asked.  
  
His friend opened his eyes and his hand came away from his face, the pain of his headache having lessened a bit.   
  
"Finleann, slow down, will you?" he said. His voice sounded raspy. "What are you doing here, anyway? What time is it? And why do you keep calling me 'Elrohir?'"  
  
With those words Finleann's face dropped, as did the pit of his stomach. "You're not Elrohir," he stated, dumbfounded.  
  
"No, I'm not," Elladan replied somewhat impatiently, "I'm Elladan. Would you mind telling me what's going on? Where's my idiotic brother? He drugged me, Finleann. The little wretch drugged me!"  
  
Finleann was so confused. What was going on? What was Elladan doing at the stables well after midnight? And what was this he was saying about being drugged? And where on earth was Elrohir?! He hurriedly brushed past Elladan and made his way quickly down the row of stalls, scanning them one by one. Elrohir's horse's stall was empty.  
  
Elladan was watching Finleann curiously. What is going on, he wondered.   
  
"So, he's not here then," Fineleann said dejectedly, staring into the empty stall.  
  
"What?" Elladan asked, shaking his head irritably, trying vainly to make sense of what was going on. "Who?" His thoughts were muddled and unclear, and he had half a mind to pinch himself, just to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream he was experiencing. Shouldn't Finleann be off with 'Ro right now, he thought. Have I been unconscious so long that they're back already?   
  
"I was so sure he'd be here," Finleann said, his voice filled with distress. "I shouldn't have left him. I should have searched longer for him!"  
  
"Who?" Elladan pressed, thinking he knew the answer but not quite knowing what it meant. What was Finleann talking about, and where was Elrohir?  
  
Finleann averted his attention back to his friend. His blue eyes shown with worry as he made his way over to him.   
  
"Elladan," he said, and his tone of voice immediately made Elladan apprehensive. Whatever was coming was not going to be good news. "Elrohir and I were attacked by orcs, not six leagues out. I managed to kill them, there were only seven, but when the fight was over there was no sign of your brother anywhere. I searched for him for about an hour but I found nothing. Not even a clue as to what might have happened to him. I thought perhaps he fled the fight and made his way back to Rivendell, but alas, I see he did not. I'm so sorry, Elladan. I didn't know what to do. I still don't know what to do."  
  
Elladan stared blankly at his friend, not believing he had heard him correctly.  
  
"Elladan!" Finleann said after the silence went on for a moment too long. He could clearly see his information was not sinking into his friend's bewildered mind. "Your brother's missing! What do we do?!"  
  
Elladan's mind raced. He stared at the floor, his gaze shifting to and fro as he tried to sort out his thoughts. Orcs? Elrohir missing? His breathing and pulse quickened. Had he heard right? Is that what Finleann had really told him? The meaning of Finleann's words quickly began to sink in, and he doubled over, feeling again as if he were going to be sick.  
  
"Elladan?" Finleann asked.  
  
"No," Elladan whispered, "You're lying. This is a joke. Tell me my little brother's really okay and that this is just one of his cruel jokes!" Elladan said desperately.   
  
"Elladan," Finleann said, his face and eyes filled with pity, "I'm sorry, my friend, but I'm not lying, and this is no joke. I wish I could tell you that Elrohir's fine, but I just don't know. However, there isn't anything other than his absence to suggest that he isn't okay, if that's any small means of comfort for you. He might be okay, but I just don't know."  
  
Elladan was hardly listening. He was in shock. His twin was missing. They had never been separated like this before in their lives and Elladan couldn't take it. The one thing that mattered most to him, the one thing that meant more to him than anything else in the world was missing. He started hyperventilating. Valar, he prayed earnestly, let my brother be okay. Please let him be okay. I can't live without him. I'll die without him. Please... He squinted his eyes shut, thinking frantically. 'Ro, why did you leave me behind, he wondered. I could have been there with you! I could have protected you! You broke our promise, 'Ro. Why? Why did you break our promise?! Elrohir!  
  
Elladan suddenly realized he was letting his emotions run completely out of control. I'm going to start crying in a minute if I don't get a hold of myself, he realized. Calm down. There's still no proof that Elrohir's hurt. He could be okay. Perhaps he's on his way home right now. If Finleann didn't find anything in his search then maybe he's fine. Yes, maybe he's heading home, he repeated to himself. A small light of hope kindled in Elladan's stony gray eyes. However, it did little to lessen the intense worry that still ate away at his nerves.  
  
Elladan's head snapped up and his pleading eyes locked with his friend's. "Come, Finleann," he said determinedly, though his voice slightly wavered, "We have to go tell my father."  
  
* * *  
  
Elrond looked up when he heard the door to his study burst open. The quill that had been continuously scratching across the parchment froze in mid-stroke, and his eyebrows lifted in surprise as he watched two young figures come racing across the room towards him in a clearly distressed and urgent manner.  
  
"Elladan? Finleann?" he questioned, rising from his chair. Something was obviously wrong. "What happened? What are you doing here?" His brow knit together in a serious expression. He noticed both boys were pale and out of breath.  
  
"Ada!" Elladan cried, placing both hands on the desk and leaning heavily on it. His breath came in short gasps. "It's Elrohir!" His eyes had a bleak and pleading look to them.  
  
Elrond's eyes widened as he stared into the face of his panting son. "What about him, Elladan?" he asked, "What happened? Where is he?" He was trying hard not to panic, for he knew it was best to learn all the details of a situation before becoming overwhelmed.   
  
"He's missing!" Elladan gasped, his face white as a sheet. He was slightly shaking.  
  
A cold fear started to spread through Elrond's body. His son was missing? How? When? "Elladan, start from the beginning. Tell me everything." he said quickly, glancing intently at both faces of the worried boys in front of him.   
  
And so Elladan started throwing out the facts, starting from the previous morning when Elrohir had awoken from his nightmare. He told his father how much that dream had frightened his brother, how it had caused him so many sleepless nights, and how he refused to reveal any details about it. He told his father how Elrohir had drugged his water pouch and left him unconscious in the stables, while Finleann was told he was merely too tired to go on the trip with them. At that point Finleann took over and continued the story, explaining the unexpected ambush and the mysterious disappearance of his friend. He told how he had searched for Elrohir for an hour before finally deciding to head home. His tone of voice sounded guilty, as if he thought the whole ordeal was his fault.  
  
Elladan sat listening to his friend with his face buried in his hands. When Finleann finally ceased speaking he looked up at his father, his eyes stunned and bloodshot and glistening with grief.  
  
Elrond's face was grim. He was shocked at what he had heard. His youngest son had been troubled so heavily by a dream that it had actually led him to drug his twin brother and leave him behind. It was obvious to Elrond that Elrohir had acted out of a desperate desire to protect his brother. Perhaps his dream had shown Elladan in danger or something, and that he believed Elladan's safety would be in jeopardy if he were to go on the camping trip. Oh, why hadn't he come to me first, Elrond wondered. Doesn't he know fiddling around with dreams can be very dangerous? I could have helped him. I could have shown him what it meant. And now he's lost. My son is lost! Why did I let him go out alone? What was I thinking?!   
  
"Glorfindel! Erestor!" Elrond called loudly as he rushed out of the study. He strolled down the corridor at a fast pace, heading towards Glorfindel's sleeping quarters. Elladan and Finleann followed close behind. He arrived at Glorfindel's room a minute later and was just reaching down to turn the handle when the door suddenly flung open. Glorfindel appeared in the doorway looking tired and bewildered, wondering why on earth Elrond was calling him at this hour. He started slightly when he was greeted face-to-face with Elrond at the door. When he caught sight of the expression on Elrond's face he knew immediately that something was wrong.  
  
"Lord Elrond! What is it?" he asked, immediately forgetting how tired he was.  
  
"Glorfindel, it's my son Elrohir! He's missing!" Elrond explained quickly, motioning for Glorfindel to follow him.  
  
A hundred questions immediately emerged in Glorfindel's mind but he pushed them aside and obediently follow Elrond down the corridor towards Erestor's chambers. As they walked Elrond continued to explain the situation in detail and Glorfindel listened intently to every word.  
  
"I need a search team to leave as soon as possible," Elrond explained, stopping outside the door to Erestor's bedroom. He turned towards Glorfindel and looked him fully in the face. "Can you be in charge of this for me, Glorfindel? I realize it's the middle of the night, but it's my son out there and I can't wait until morning to get a search going. He could be injured, or unconscious, or held captive, or, or who knows what?" Elrond was frantic and his eyes shown with fear. Glorfindel had never seen his friend so upset.  
  
"Elrond," Glorfindel said calmly, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder. "We'll find your son. Do not worry." He gave his friend a reassuring nod and then turned away, heading off to assemble a search team.  
  
Elladan quickly followed after him.  
  
"Elladan!" Elrond called to him. "Where are you going?"  
  
Elladan turned around with a look on his face that suggested that was the stupidest question his father had ever asked him. "Where am I going?" he asked, "I'm going to find my brother!"  
  
Elrond sighed in defeat. He knew there was nothing he could say that would keep his son from going on the search with Glorfindel. It really wouldn't be fair to make him stay either. He knew how much his twin sons loved each other. Maybe they would never call it love, but it was there nonetheless. And Elrond completely understood their bond. For he himself had had a twin brother once. And he knew what if felt like to be separated from him. He knew the apprehension, the fear, the incompleteness that weighed heavily on the heart of the one twin when the other was in danger. The relationship of twins is phenomenal, and he was lucky enough to have experienced it himself. They really were each one half of a whole. One could never feel complete or at peace without the other. It was hard to explain, even to himself, but Elrond understood it nevertheless. Yes, Elrond thought, Elladan deserves to be allowed to go on the search for his twin, because, in a way, Elrohir belongs more to him than he does to me. I'll just have to bear the burden of worrying for the safety of both of my sons tonight. But Elladan will be with Glorfindel, so really, I shouldn't worry. It's Elrohir I'm concerned about.  
  
"Alright, Elladan," Elrond said slowly, "But you must promise me that you'll stay with Glorfindel and that you'll be very careful out there."  
  
Elladan resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Ada, I'm not a little elfling anymore. But, yes, I will be careful. And I'll find Elrohir, and he'll be okay. Everything will be okay," he repeated, trying more to convince himself than his father. He turned and hurried after Glorfindel, his eyes still shining with fear.  
  
* * *  
  
Later that same night Elrond met Glorfindel outside the stables as he and the search team were preparing to leave.  
  
"Glorfindel," Elrond said, pulling him aside, "Please keep a close eye on Elladan. Make sure he comes home tomorrow," he swallowed, "even if Elrohir is not found. Not knowing how one of my sons fares is hard enough, but to be unsure of the safety of both of them is unbearable. Please protect him."  
  
Glorfindel nodded. "We'll find Elrohir, Elrond. We won't give up until we do. And I'll keep Elladan safe as well and have him home to you tomorrow. Please do not grieve too much, my friend. Everything will turn out okay." He hoped Elrond would not be able to read the worried expression on his face in the darkness.  
  
Elrond nodded his gratitude and watched as his friend mounted his horse and sped off into the rainy night. Valar, he prayed, please protect my sons. Please bring them back safely home to me...  
  
TBC  
  
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A/N: Alright readers, I'm sorry Elrohir was not in this chapter at all, but I had to give Elladan a nice long chapter to make up for his previous absence. I hope you still liked it though! Don't worry, there will be plenty of Elrohir angst coming up. Oh, and I just want to thank my reviewers so far! You have no idea how much reviews can motivate an author to keep writing. Well, actually you might, since a lot of you are authors yourselves...But anyways, leave a review! It helps, trust me^^ Also, thanks to those who have reviewed more than once. I love hearing from the same people!  
  
Responses to reviews:  
  
elrohir lover: Well, I updated, but I'm still not sure whether or not Elrohir's going to die. But as I write the next chapter, I'll keep in mind that you really don't want him to ;-)  
  
shadowfaxgal7: Thanks so much! I agree, Elladan and Elrohir are the best characters. And yes, there will be more Elrohir angst. I love it too ^^  
  
Coolio02: Thanks for being my most consistent reviewer! Oh, and I'm still waiting for the next chapter to your story, you know ;-)  
  
Vicki Turner: I'm glad you're liking the story so far! And I'm sorry Legolas isn't in it, and probably won't be appearing at all, but Legolas tends to hog attention and I want this story to stay focused on the twins, you know? ^_^  
  
Carrie: Thanks so much. I'm flattered. And I'll keep writing, if you keep leaving nice reviews :)   
  
And thanks Lynn, Jenni and xXgemXx for your nice reviews as well! You guys are awesome! 


	7. Chapter 7

Elrohir ran through the thick, swirling mists surrounding him, frantically glancing this way and that, trying to get away. Something was after him. Something was trying to get him, and he knew that if he didn't keep running it would have him. What is it, he wondered fearfully. Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I so alone?!   
  
"Hello?!"   
  
No answer.   
  
He strained his memory, forcing himself to recall some details of what had led him here. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything of his past. All he knew at the moment was mist, fear, and loneliness.   
  
And so he pushed himself on. Keep running, his mind told him. Something's after you. Something's trying to get you. Don't let it.   
  
The mist shrouded down around him, becoming denser with every step he took. He couldn't see anything else; just the white, empty mist surrounding him, and the hard, cold ground beneath him.   
  
It's getting closer, run harder!   
  
His muddled mind continued trying to make sense of the situation while he pushed himself on.   
  
Something's missing, he realized suddenly. There's a reason behind this desperate loneliness I'm feeling, but I can't remember what it is. Part of me is missing.   
  
As if in answer to that thought, a figure suddenly began to materialize from out of the mist ahead of him. Elrohir slowed to a stop, watching curiously as the figure approached him.   
  
It was an elf. Tall and dark, yet not fully-grown; he still had a playful, boyish look about him that was both intriguing and instantly likeable. He looked so familiar and yet Elrohir wasn't sure why. He continued to study and wonder about the elf until the elf suddenly brought his gaze up and made eye contact with him.   
  
Elrohir felt an instant, unexplainable connection strike between them, and he suddenly understood who it was that stood in front of him. He couldn't believe he hadn't recognized him at first.   
  
"Elladan," he whispered, feeling immeasurable relief and comfort spread instantly throughout his body, as memory of his twin came flooding back to him. How could I have forgotten? Elrohir asked himself. Elladan's my other half, my twin, the part of me that was missing. How did I forget?   
  
Elrohir's mind was so mixed up and he couldn't seem to sort things out. Elladan's my brother, he reminded himself. My very best friend. I'm not alone anymore. I don't need to be afraid.   
  
But as he watched his twin brother, part of the relief and comfort he was feeling began to fade. Elladan was looking at him with an odd expression—an amused smirk. It looked like the kind of smirk the twins reserved for each other when one had told on the other and was anticipating the moment of their punishment, which was usually a scornful lecture from their father. It seemed out of place for Elladan to be wearing that look in a situation like this, and it put Elrohir at unease and only caused him more confusion.   
  
Elladan continued to smirk at Elrohir, not saying anything, just silently staring at him. It was as if he knew something Elrohir didn't, and he had no intention of sharing his secret with his twin.   
  
"Elladan?" Elrohir said desperately, "What is it?"   
  
"You left me, 'Ro," Elladan whispered, the absurd smile still pasted to his face. "You broke our promise. You're lost."   
  
Elrohir had a vague remembrance of what Elladan was talking about, but still, he could not connect any of the events that were swimming around in his memory with what was actually happening at the moment. He didn't quite know why, but he strongly felt that he owed his twin an apology.   
  
"I'm sorry, Elladan," he pleaded. "I…I had to." Had to what? he wondered. Again, he felt his thoughts slipping away into meaningless confusion. Why can't I think clearly? he asked himself. Why is everything so mixed up?   
  
"It's too late for apologies, Elrohir," Elladan said. "You're lost. You left me. You're dying," he stopped and raised his hand to point at something behind Elrohir. "Look at what's in store for you now," he said, and with those words Elladan abruptly faded away, back into the mist from whence he had come.   
  
"Elladan, don't leave me!" Elrohir pleaded desperately. "Please…don't go…" his fear and confusion was starting to take a toll on him and he felt hot tears sting his eyes.   
  
"Elladan…"   
  
Elrohir stood still, staring at the ground through bleary vision. Elladan, he thought, I need you here with me. I'm so afraid. I'm so alone. Why did you leave? Where did you go?   
  
Suddenly, Elrohir felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Something was approaching him. He suddenly remembered how he was being pursued by something unknown and that he had stopped running in order to talk to his twin. He also remembered Elladan pointing to something behind him just before he had disappeared. 'Look at what's in store for you now…' The words echoed in Elrohir's mind.   
  
Fearfully Elrohir turned around, dreading what he would see. His breath caught in his chest.   
  
A tall figure, cloaked and hooded in the deepest black Elrohir had ever seen was towering over him, looking down at him from a dark empty void within the hood. Elrohir wasn't sure if there was a face in there or not, but if there was, he certainly did not to see what it looked like.   
  
Elrohir couldn't move for fear. He stood there, gaping at the figure, wondering what it was and what it wanted. Am I going to die, he wondered vaguely. Is it going to kill me?   
  
The black figure began to move. Slowly, it stretched its arm out, reaching for Elrohir.   
  
Don't touch me! Elrohir thought, panicking. He wanted to shout the words but he couldn't; they were stuck in his throat. Do something! his brain screamed at him. Don't just stand there! Get away! Run!   
  
But Elrohir couldn't run. He couldn't even move.   
  
And so he just stood there, his eyes wide and watching as the dark arm continued to reach out towards him. He squinted his eyes shut, not wanting to see what it was going to do to him.   
  
He suddenly felt instant coldness make contact with his chest and his eyes snapped open, glancing anxiously down at his body. What he saw made him gasp.   
  
The dark arm had reached into him, actually passing through his skin as if it were a ghost. Elrohir's breath quickened and he felt a single tear slip down his cheek. What is it doing to me, he wondered vaguely, his mind numb with fear.   
  
He gasped as he felt icy cold fingers slowly wrap around his heart.   
  
No, Elrohir thought. No, please stop. Please don't do it. He glanced up quickly at the dark figure, his face a pleading mixture of dread and fear.   
  
The dark figure, however, showed no signs of possessing any mercy. It's dark arm, still cruelly gripping Elrohir's heart, suddenly yanked back.   
  
Elrohir's scream was a silent thought that melted into blackness…   
  
  
  
* * *   
  
  
  
"I got it," Traven said, triumphantly holding up a blood-soaked arrow tip, still connected to about four inches of broken shaft.   
  
Damus eyed it wearily, grateful the operation was finally over. He was sitting next to the elf's head, firmly pinning his arms and shoulders down, while another man pinned the elf's legs, for the elf wouldn't stop thrashing around, lost in his feverish dreams as he was.   
  
"Do you think he felt it?" Damus asked, recalling how the elf had screamed when Traven had pulled the arrow out.   
  
"Nah, I doubt it," Traven replied, glancing down at the unconscious elf.   
  
"That must be one horrible nightmare he's having, then. He seems miserable," Damus said, referring to the elf's continuous thrashing and moans of distress, "I wish we could wake him up." Damus knew that any attempts to rouse the elf would be useless, for the elf was poisoned and would most likely be unconscious for a while, until his system could fight the poison and feverish delusions off.   
  
"No, it's better that he stays unconscious," Traven replied, "We're not done yet." He pressed a wad of cloth against the elf's wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. "Damus, hand me some king's foil from out of that pouch there," he said pointing to the pouch at Damus' side.   
  
Damus complied and handed one of the freshly picked weeds to Traven. King's foil, or athelas, was probably the most useful herb when it came to healing poisoned wounds. Damus had learned this from Traven a while back, when a fellow outlaw of theirs had also suffered from an orc-inflicted wound.   
  
Damus watched, still firmly pinning the elf down, as Traven mashed the plant between his fingers and inserted it into the wound on the elf's shoulder. The elf cried out again, trying harder to free himself from the grips of the men that held him. Damus glanced at the man pinning the elf's feet. He looked tired, and quite bored of holding the thrashing elf still. He should be tired, Damus thought. It's probably well after midnight and we've been working on the elf for over a half-hour now. Damus looked around at the rest of the camp. Most of the men were already fast asleep, rolled up in their cloaks and blankets, their chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Two fires were still merrily crackling away; one, just a few feet away, was providing sufficient lighting for Traven to work on the elf, and the other, several yards away, was providing warmth for several men that had not yet gone to bed. Damus noticed that Barelus, the leader of their band of outlaws, was among the men surrounding the fire, talking in a low voice and occasionally sending furtive glances their way. They hadn't yet discussed what was to be done with the elf, and Damus knew that the reason Barelus was still up was so that they could have that discussion after Traven was done healing the elf. Damus was a little apprehensive about the discussion that was to come. After all, it was his idea to bring the elf back to camp, and if Barelus was angry about that, his anger would most likely be directed towards Damus. But Damus didn't really care. All he cared about was getting the elf safely back to his family in Rivendell, and if it was going to be all up to him to do so, well then, so be it. He couldn't bear the thought of the elf's family members suffering as he had suffered when his family was killed. And it must be worse for the elf's family, he thought, because they don't know where he is. They know nothing of his current situation. Not knowing must be the worst.   
  
Damus brought his thoughts back to the present situation and glanced down to see what Traven was doing. He watched as Traven finished binding the wound with a relatively clean cloth and then sat back and wiped his forehead.   
  
"Alright," Traven said, examining his work, "I've done what I can for him."   
  
"Will he be alright, then?" Damus asked, glancing at the colorless face of the elf. He loosened his hold on the elf's arms and shoulders and noticed the man at his feet do the same. Even after Traven was done, the elf continued to thrash around in his sleep, occasionally mumbling and calling out incoherent words. However, through all his feverish babbling there was one word the elf kept repeating that was quite easy to understand: 'Elladan.' Damus wondered what it meant, or who it was. It must be someone very dear to him, he thought, or the elf wouldn't keep repeating it.   
  
"I don't know," Traven replied, bringing Damus' attention back to him, "The poison is still in his system. The athelas should help, but ultimately it's going to be up to him to fight it off," he glanced down uncertainly at the unconscious elf.   
  
"Then you mean there's still a chance that he might die?" Damus asked worriedly.   
  
Traven gave him an annoyed look. "Of course there's still a chance he might die. He was shot with a poisoned arrow, Damus. I'm not a performer of miracles, you know. If the elf dies, he dies." He shrugged. "So what?"   
  
Damus stared at him. "You don't really mean that," he said. "If you really didn't care so much whether the elf lived or died you wouldn't have worked so hard on patching him up."   
  
Traven looked at him angrily.   
  
"I mean, look at him Traven. How can you honestly say that you do not pity him?" Damus asked.   
  
They both glanced down at the distressed elf, examining his fair ashen face, and listening to his desperate moans of feverish agony.   
  
As Traven watched the unconscious elf he couldn't help feeling a sharp pang of pity touch his heart. He suddenly realized that it really would be quite a shame if such a pure and innocent creature were to die.   
  
"Tomorrow I'm going to take him back to Rivendell," Damus announced suddenly, still watching the elf.   
  
"What?" Traven asked, fixing his gaze on the younger man.   
  
"His family must be worried sick, Traven," Damus said looking at his friend, "He needs to go back."   
  
"Your motives may be noble, boy," Traven replied, "but they are not the only ones to take into account,"   
  
"What?" Damus asked, "What are you talking about?" He studied his friend's face closely, reading his expression, and slowly came to a realization.   
  
"Oh, I see," Damus said slowly, his eyes slightly narrowing. "You had your own motives for bringing the elf back to camp, didn't you," his voice sounded accusing, "Tell me, what are they, Traven? What benefit do you hope to gain at the expense of this helpless elf?"   
  
Traven's eyes sparked with guilt, but he was spared having to answer the accusing young man, for at that moment Barelus appeared their side, looking down at the unconscious figure on the ground.   
  
"So, you took care of him?" he asked brusquely, gesturing at the elf.   
  
Traven nodded, "I did what I could for him. He might be alright, but it's still too early to tell."   
  
Barelus nodded his understanding. "So explain," he demanded.   
  
Damus and Traven briefly glanced at each other.   
  
"Explain what?" Damus asked.   
  
"Explain why you brought him to camp. Explain what you want us to do with him." Barelus said impatiently.   
  
"We brought him to camp to save his life," Damus said boldly. "He would have died out there without receiving any medical care."   
  
"So, you brought him back to our camp, to use up our resources, just to save his worthless life?" Barelus asked angrily. "What's the meaning of this, Damus? In case you've forgotten, we're outlaws. We can't afford to help other people. Especially not dying elves. What's gotten into your head, boy?"   
  
"Barelus," Traven interrupted, placing his hand on his companion's back and walking him several feet away from a distraught-looking Damus, "I tried to tell the boy the same thing," he explained, "but he refused to leave the elf to die. He said it wouldn't be fair for the elf's family, and you know how Damus is about family," he added in a low voice.   
  
Barelus gave a slight nod, waiting for Traven to get to his point.   
  
"Anyway," Traven continued, "when Damus mentioned the elf's family, I got to thinkin'. And I came to the conclusion that this here elf could end up bein' very useful to us."   
  
"How?" Barelus asked, folding his arms across his broad chest.   
  
"Ransom," Traven replied, as if the answer should have been obvious. "We offer the elf's family a price to get their precious boy back safely. If they pay up, we give him to them. If not, then we kill him and lose nothing."   
  
Barelus thought the situation through, the wheels in his head turning slowly. After a few moments a grin appeared on his face and he clapped his companion on the back heartily.   
  
"I like the way you think, Traven," he said laughing. "We could fetch a fair price for the boy, couldn't we?"   
  
"I should say so," Traven replied, "Elves only have eternity to accumulate their wealth."   
  
Barelus laughed harder. "Eternity indeed! Ransom it is then." He clapped Traven once more on the back, and then, still lightly chuckling, he went off to bed.   
  
Traven turned back to Damus to find him staring incredulously at him.   
  
"_Ransom?_" Damus asked. "You want us to _sell_ the elf back to his family?"   
  
Traven shrugged, "Why not?"   
  
"Why not?! Because that's ridiculous!" Damus answered heatedly, "It's wrong and cruel, Traven, and you know it!"   
  
Traven narrowed his eyes impatiently at the younger man. "It's a good way to get some gold, that's what it is. Who do you think you are, Damus? You're just a foolish boy. Goodness knows how you're going to survive in this world. You won't even consent to ransom, which is practically harmless."   
  
Damus shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you, Traven. And I actually thought that you wanted to bring the elf back to camp out of the goodness of your heart. I see now that I should have known better." He turned away angrily and knelt next to the elf.   
  
Traven opened his mouth, wanting to tell Damus that he really didn't see that ransom would cause any harm, but he shut it again, frustrated that the boy was actually making him feel guilty. I shouldn't apologize to him, he thought. He's just a foolish boy. But still, why does he have to be so irritatingly _righteous_? It hardly makes any sense. He glanced down at the young man laying a comforting hand on the elf's forehead. He shook his head in exasperation and stalked off to bed.   
  
Damus sat with his hand gently pressed against the elf's forehead. He was concerned about the elf's high fever that was showing no signs of receding. His skin seemed to have grown even hotter in the last hour or so, and Damus wasn't sure what to do about it. The elf was still tossing around and Damus was quite sure the fever was the cause of this. He tried to calm the elf down, tried to get him to hold still for a moment so he could dab his forehead with a wet cloth, but his efforts were to no avail. The elf was delusional, and Damus had no clue how to treat that. Even Traven, who was a considerably good healer, didn't know what to do about the fever. Just let it run its course, he had said.   
  
The elf was still mumbling nonsense as well, and Damus noticed that his voice sounded frightened and confused. Poor kid, Damus thought. He's as clueless of his whereabouts as his family is.   
  
Yawning, Damus decided he had best go to bed since he would most likely have to be prepared for a long journey to Rivendell in the morning. Even if it was by means of ransom, at least the elf would make it back to his family, and that thought comforted Damus. He didn't want the elf to die, and he didn't want his family to suffer the grief of having him missing. He didn't really know why he cared so much, he just did. He couldn't help it. After experiencing the pain of losing his own family, he vowed he would do all he could to help others not have to go through what he did. It just wasn't right that people should have to suffer so.   
  
He stood up and, leaning down, he adjusted the wadded cloak beneath the elf's head, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. He noticed the elf's chest was still bare and realized he might freeze during the remainder of the night. Rather than struggle with trying to dress the unconscious elf, however, he decided it would just be easier to throw a thick blanket over him and tuck the edges in underneath him. That also might prevent him from thrashing around as well, he thought. So Damus did just that, and when he was done, he decided it was definitely time for him to get some sleep.   
  
He trudged over to the edge of the camp and, after tiredly pulling off his boots, rolled up in his cloak and was asleep in moments.   
  
  
  
* * *   
  
  
  
He awoke about an hour later. Gradually opening his eyes, he immediately noticed it was still dark. At first he didn't know what had caused him to wake, but after only a moment or two, the reason became clear to him. It was the elf. He was calling out louder than ever and thrashing around uncontrollably. Damus got up as fast as his tired body would allow him and rushed over to where the distressed elf lay, clearly suffering from another fit of delusional nightmares.   
  
He stood staring at the elf, not knowing what to do.   
  
"Shut him up, will you?" a groggy voice called through the darkness.   
  
"Yeah, what's goin' on?" another tired voice asked, "I'm tryin' to sleep!"   
  
Damus continued to stand there, staring at the distressed elf, not knowing what to do to calm or quiet him down.   
  
A nearby man grunted and got to his feet. "I'll take care of this," he said angrily.   
  
Damus watched as he man hastily approached the elf, clearly having lost his temper by having his sleep disrupted. He kicked the elf roughly, cursing at him and telling him to shut up.   
  
"Stop!" Damus shouted at him, "Can't you see he's sick?"   
  
The man pushed Damus away. "So what if he's sick? He's keeping the whole camp up! How are we supposed to get any sleep around here with this racket he's making?" He reached down and snatched up the rag that Damus had tried to wipe the elf's brow with earlier. Convinced it would serve a better purpose as a gag, the man roughly shoved it into the elf's mouth and tied it tightly behind his head. The elf's moans were sufficiently muffled through the thick cloth, and satisfied, the man turned back to Damus.   
  
"You take that out and I'll beat you, understand?" he asked.   
  
Damus looked at him with hard, dark eyes, not saying anything.   
  
"Understand?!" the man repeated angrily. He lashed out suddenly and slugged Damus across the jaw.   
  
Damus' head snapped to the side, and faint stars flitted across his vision. Anger erupted in him almost as fast as pain did. He couldn't believe that idiot had just hit him. He drew back, preparing to return a vicious blow to the man, when suddenly he felt someone grasp his arm and roughly twist it behind his back, holding him tight and preventing him from continuing the fight.   
  
"What's going on?" It was Traven.   
  
Damus struggled, trying to break free from Traven's grasp, wanting more than anything to get even with the man that had slugged him.   
  
"Calm down, Damus," Traven said, holding him firmly. He glanced at the man that had hit Damus. "I've got him. Go back to bed."   
  
The man obeyed and silently stalked away.   
  
"What's going on?" Traven repeated, finally releasing Damus and whirling him around to face him.   
  
"You got in a fight?" he asked.   
  
"I didn't do anything, Traven! It was Aamussen, that idiot. He hit me!" Damus was clearly upset.   
  
"What did you do to make him so mad?" Traven asked patiently.   
  
"Nothing! All I did was protest gagging the elf and he completely lost it on me." Damus said in his defense.   
  
"Well, maybe it's better the gag stays in." Traven said.   
  
"What?" Damus asked. "He won't be able to breathe!"   
  
Traven snorted slightly. "He'll be fine, Damus. He won't even notice; he's unconscious. Besides, it's an awful lot quieter with it in. Shades, why are so protective over him anyway? It's not like you owe him anything, you know."   
  
"Yeah, I know," Damus replied, "but I'm the only one here who'll look after him. And that's not a responsibility I can take lightly. I mean, if it were me in his position, I'd want someone to be looking out for me. So I guess I'm just treating him how I would want to be treated. It's a simple rule I try to live my life by, and things seem to work out for the better when I do."   
  
"Yeah, except for when you end up in a fight at three in the morning with a man twice your size," Traven replied jokingly.   
  
"Hey, I didn't start that fight," Damus said, "and Aamussen is not twice my size. I could have handled him easily."   
  
Traven smiled. "Yeah, well, you better watch yourself, boy. You're not like the rest of us, you know? And the men are starting to see that. They're starting to notice that you're soft. If you're not careful, they're gonna throw you out."   
  
"I'm not _soft_, Traven," Damus said firmly, "and I really don't think it would be such a shame if I were to get kicked out of the group. I'm starting to see myself that I don't belong with these men," he paused for a moment, "and I don't think you do either."   
  
"What are you talking about, boy?" Traven replied irritably. "You don't know anything about me, so don't pretend to!" He turned quickly and stamped off to bed.   
  
Damus stood staring after him, wondering why his comment had made him so upset. However, he was too tired to think it through at the moment, and decided it was time to return to bed. He gave the now gagged elf one last sympathetic look before turning around and silently making his way back to his bedding. He flopped down and rolled himself up in his cloak and quickly drifted off to sleep.   
  
  
  
* * *   
  
  
  
Another hour passed swiftly by, and Damus found himself once again being abruptly awoken from his peaceful slumber.   
  
He sat up quickly, staring into the darkness. He knew it was once again a noise that had awoken him. He listened intently, wondering what it was. It sounded like a faint gagging noise; like someone was choking. It must be the elf, he thought frantically.   
  
Damus quickly got up and rushed over to where the elf lay to see what was wrong with him. The elf was doubled over, coughing and choking through the gag, his chest heaving in a desperate effort to fill with air. Damus also noticed that his eyes were open. They looked stunned and bloodshot and didn't seem to be focusing on anything in particular. Damus could tell the elf wasn't conscious, despite his open eyes.   
  
What's wrong with him? Damus wondered frantically. Why is he choking? Is the gag really blocking his airway?   
  
Damus quickly knelt next to the elf and hurriedly untied the gag. As he pulled it out the elf continued to gasp and cough, struggling to breathe. Damus noticed it appeared as if the elf were trying to cough something up. He looked down at the rag in his hands. It was covered with blood. The elf was choking on his own blood.   
  
He was about to call out for Traven when he realized that wouldn't be necessary; Traven was already at his side, examining the elf.   
  
"What's wrong?" Traven asked, kneeling next to Damus.   
  
"He's coughing up blood, Traven!" Damus replied anxiously. "What does that mean? Is he going to die?"   
  
"Sit him up," Traven said, ignoring the younger man's questions. Together they pulled the elf into a sitting position and Traven leaned the elf's head down so he could cough the rest of the blood up, instead of having it block his airway. Traven lightly slapped the elf's back a few times, hoping that would encourage him to keep coughing.   
  
"Is he dying?" Damus repeated, worry shining in his eyes.   
  
"I don't know," Traven said uncertainly, slowly shaking his head "But coughing up blood is never a good sign. This elf needs a skilled healer to work on him. If he's going to live he needs to get back to Rivendell. He needs elvish medicine."   
  
"That's why I've got to take him there first thing in the morning," Damus insisted. "We don't have time to deal with ransom, Traven!"   
  
"We'll have time, boy. Don't worry, we'll have time," But the uncertainty he was feeling clearly registered in his voice as he turned his attention back to the delirious elf, still coughing and spitting up blood…   
  
  
  
**TBC**   
  
  
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**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. Life's been a bit hectic lately with the ending of the third term at school. Argh, I hate term-endings. They're soo stressful. But at least it means we're only one more term away from summer! Anyway, when it's not the end of the term at school, I still want to stick to my plan of at least one chapter a week, and I'd just like to say sorry ahead of time if a couple of weeks slip by without an update. I hope you liked this chapter. I had fun writing it. The more I write, the more I like Damus. He's a great guy, don't you think? I don't know what Elrohir would do without him. Maybe I should kill Damus off and then the story would get _really_ angsty for Elrohir 'cause he would have no one to look after him. But, I don't know. I think I like Damus too much to let him die. Besides, who would want to kill him? He's too sweet ^_^ Anyway, sorry for rambling. Leave a review! Thanks!   
  
Oh, and if you fans of the twins want to check out a pretty sweet picture I made of the twins, you can find a link to it on my bio page!   
  
  
**Review Responses:**   
  
**Felice:** Thanks so much for your review! I'm glad to hear you're liking the story so far! Just thought I'd leave you a note to let you know how happy your review made me! ^_^ Hope you liked chapter 7!   
  
**ien:** Thanks so much for your suggestion! I'll take it into consideration. ;-)   
  
**Iawen Londea:** Thanks for reviewing. It's nice to hear from a fellow writer of twin fiction. I came across your story "A Shot in the Dark" a while back, before I was a member of ff.net, and I absolutely love that story! You're a great writer!   
  
**dstrbd child:** I'm glad to hear you're hooked to my story. That means you'll keep reading and reviewing, right? ;-)   
  
**lynn:** I'm sorry chapter 7 took almost two weeks to post! I've just been really busy lately. Thanks for your comment, though. It's nice to know that someone out there is actually checking to see if I've updated or not ^_^   
  



	8. Chapter 8

Elladan and the search party arrived at the scene of the attack just as the sun was beginning to soften the eastern sky with a light rose-tinted hue. The rain had long since ceased and the morning was dawning clear and bright, promising a beautiful day. Under normal circumstances, Elladan would have greatly enjoyed the setting, but today he was too troubled to take any form of comfort in nature. His thoughts were constantly with his missing brother. Where is he, he wondered repeatedly. Is he okay? Will we find him? _Will I ever see him again?!_   
  
He was torturing himself. He knew he was being irrational but he couldn't help assuming horrible conclusions that Elrohir might be lost forever. What would I do? Elladan asked himself. What if we don't find him? How could I ever go on living without him? What if I _never_ find out what happened to him and spend the rest of eternity searching for him in vain?! Ah, why am I doing this to myself? We haven't even begun searching for him yet. Maybe everything will turn out fine. Maybe we'll find him in just a few minutes, and he'll be okay, and we'll go home to Ada and everything will be back to normal. But Elladan couldn't fool himself into believing that. If Elrohir were okay they wouldn't be out here looking for him right now. If he were okay he would have made it home during the night. No, something had happened to him and Elladan was determined to find out what, and bring his brother safely home.   
  
"Elladan," Glorfindel's voice broke through Elladan's thoughts. "Let's examine the area."   
  
The elves dismounted and made their way over to the corpses of orcs that lay scattered across the earth. Sure enough, there were seven of them and they were all quite dead, lying there stiff and unmoving, their corpses filling the air with a foul stench. There was little blood to be seen, however, since the heavy rain had washed most of it away. And, looking around, Elladan also noticed the rain had washed away any sign of tracks that may have provided evidence as to the whereabouts of his twin. He silently cursed this misfortune.   
  
"The rain washed away every clue that may have served us in finding my brother!" Elladan said, distraught, "There's no sign of tracks anywhere!"   
  
Glorfindel nodded and his brow furrowed. "Yes, I was afraid of this. We have no choice but to continue our search without any reliance on clues. Let us spread out and head in different directions. Search a five mile radius of the area, and if you find Elrohir sound a horn. If you don't find any sign of him, expand your search to a ten mile radius. Plan to meet back at this point at sundown."   
  
The elves nodded their agreement, turned, and set off, each heading in a separate direction.   
  
"Elladan, you come with me," Glorfindel said once the other elves were out of earshot.   
  
"Why?" Elladan asked, "If we search separately we could each cover more ground than the two of us combined. It would make no sense to search together." He took a good look at Glorfindel, suddenly understanding why he suggested it. "My father told you to keep an eye on me, didn't he?" Elladan asked impatiently. "That's ridiculous, Glorfindel. I'm well old enough to look after myself."   
  
Glorfindel looked at his younger companion silently for a moment before giving in. "Alright," he said, "You are right about being able to cover more ground if we go separately. But you must promise to meet back here at sundown...even if Elrohir has not been found yet, understand?"   
  
Elladan didn't like the idea of coming back empty handed but he agreed nonetheless. "Alright. I understand."   
  
Glorfindel nodded and turned away, heading southeast.   
  
Elladan gave the dead orcs one last disgusted look before turning away and mounting his horse. He could already hear shouts of his brother's name in the distance. The name echoed through the air and each reverberation seemed to sting Elladan like a sudden bite of frost. _Elrohir....Elrohir........Elrohir...._   
  
"Elrohir..." Elladan whispered, staring solemnly out at the rosy horizon. "Don't worry, brother. I'm going to find you. No matter what it takes, I will find you and and bring you home..."   
  


  
  
Damus slowly closed his eyes. He had been staring at the ground, immersed in his own thoughts and oblivious to his surroundings for the past several hours. He was only just noticing that the sky was gradually growing lighter. Dawn was arriving at last. He took a deep breath and blinked again, willing the fatigue he was feeling to leave his body. He hadn't slept much during the night, only a couple of hours at most. And he hadn't slept at all since the elf's unpleasant episode during the night. It frightened Damus something awful when he awoke and found the elf choking on his own blood. He was sure the poison that was coursing through the elf had finally taken its toll on him, and that the elf was surely going to die, but apparently he had been wrong. The elf was clearly not willing to give up his fight against the poison that was claiming him. He was still alive. Unconscious and pale as death, but alive. He had finally calmed down during the night after coughing and spitting up a considerable amount of blood, and was now quietly lying close to where Damus sat, breathing faintly, and looking, for the most part, like a corpse.   
  
Damus dabbed a moist cloth against the elf's feverish forehead one last time before standing up and slowly stretching his cramped and tired limbs out. He was willing his body to wake up and feel rejuvenated, for he was expecting a full-day's march to Rivendell that day. All he had to do was convince Barelus to let him take the elf , which might actually prove to be quite difficult, considering the fact that Barelus was now expecting to receive a ransom payment for the elf. But Damus was not going to back down on this. The elf didn't have much longer to live, and the time it would take for the ransom demands to be met would most likely prove to be too long.   
  
The camp was now beginning to wake up, and Damus decided now would be the best time to begin preparing for the journey he was desperately hoping to make that day. He hurriedly gathered together his bedding and what few clothes he possessed, and packed them rather sloppily together. He was nearly done packing when he noticed Traven was up and was making his way over towards him.   
  
"Going somewhere?" Traven asked in a gruff voice as he looked over Damus' hasty packing job.   
  
"Actually, yes," Damus replied, with a faint hint of anger in his voice. "I'm taking the elf back to Rivendell. I'm just about to leave, in fact."   
  
Traven snorted. "Do you really think Barelus is going to just let you up and walk off with the elf? Especially now that he's looking forward to getting rich off of him? You'd be wise to--"   
  
"The whole ransom deal was your foolish idea, Traven," Damus cut in angrily, "Why did you have to mention it? Why do you always have to be so selfish? You saw the elf last night, didn't you? He's dying! He needs elvish medicine. He needs to get home as soon as possible."   
  
They glared at each other for a moment, and Traven was just about to reply when something caught both their attention. One of the men who had been out scouting that morning had just arrived back at camp and was loudly calling for Barelus. He seemed to be rather pleased about something, and the rest of the men turned to watch him curiously.   
  
"What is it?" Barelus asked with a hint of impatience as he turned his attention to the excited scout.   
  
The scout smiled, obviously enjoying having everyone's attention on him for the moment. "I was just out scouting the area," he began, "as we normally do every morning, when I heard the call of voices from a distance."He paused to look around at everyone, making sure they were paying attention. "I listened for a moment, and then decided to follow the voices a bit closer so I could make out what they were saying. It's a search team, Barelus," he said, "And they're looking for him," He pointed at the unconscious elf laying close to where Damus and Traven stood. All the men turned their eyes to glance at him.   
  
"How do you know?" Barelus asked.   
  
"It only makes sense," the scout replied, "They were elves' voices. But the thing is, Barelus, there's quite a lot of elves searching for him. Much more than would be required to find a regular missing brother or son."   
  
Barelus didn't quite follow what the scout was saying. The scout went on, "They were calling for a _Lord_, Barelus. 'Lord Elreer,' or something of the like. I think we've got ourselves an elven prince," the man finished, a smug grin plastered on his face.   
  
Damus realized the man obviously knew about the ransom plans, and that was why he was so delighted to deliver the news that the elf was a prince. Think of the ransom they could get if he truly was the son of the Lord of Rivendell! No wonder the elf has a noble look to him, Damus thought, glancing down at the pale sleeping face. Damus turned his gaze back to Barelus.   
  
Barelus was smiling widely. Apparently this news was very delightful for him, indeed. He let out a loud laugh and slapped the scout on the back. "We're going to be rich men!" He paused for a moment, still smiling, considering what to do next. "We need a scribe!" he called out, "Who will write the ransom note? The sooner we get it delivered, the better."   
  
Damus rolled his eyes. He honestly couldn't believe the stupidity of this man at times. He clearly wasn't the leader of the group for his intellectual abilities. Did Barelus really think they could just march into Rivendell with some hastily-thought-out ransom note, deliver the half-dead prince, and then march back out richer than they had ever been in their lives? These were elves they were dealing with, and Damus knew there was no chance they would be so accomodating to Barelus' plans. They would be lucky to get out of Rivendell alive, let alone rich.   
  
Apparently, Damus wasn't the only one thinking along these lines. At that moment Aamussen stood up, turning towards Barelus.   
  
"Barelus, about this ransom idea," he began slowly, choosing his words carefully.   
  
"Yes? What about it?" Barelus snapped, sensing opposition.   
  
"Well," Aamussen continued, slightly daunted, "To be honest, I really do not think the elves are going to respond reasonably to this." Barelus gave him a blank stare, his signal for the man to continue. "Barelus, if we take the Lord of Rivendell's half-dead son back to him, demanding him to give us money or his son dies, do you really think they're going to just pay up and let us be on our way?"   
  
Barelus clenched his jaw, and Aamussen realized he was not keeping this conversation friendly enough for their leader's liking. He decided to refrain from accusationary remarks. "I mean," he continued quickly, "it's a good idea, sir, but elves are nothing to trifle with, particularly elven lords."   
  
Barelus immediately realized what Aamussen was saying made sense. The elves would most likely blame them for the state of health their prince was in, and would have no problem at all with killing every one of them. Especially if they were angered over the demand for ransom. Barelus knew what few men he had would be no match against an elven army, and that might very well be what they would end up facing if they were to demand ransom for the prince.   
  
The glee Barelus had previously felt had all but faded and he asked Aamussen with a stony expression, "What do you suggest we do, then?"   
  
"Well," a small smirk began to spread across Aamussen's face, "there are always other options of ways we could benefit from the elf," he said.   
  
Barelus raised an eyebrow in interest. "Such as?"   
  
"What's the latest price you've heard an elf go for in the slave market?" Aamussen asked nonchalantly. Barelus' other eyebrow shot up at this statement.   
  
Damus had heard enough. He broke in quickly. "Oh, please!" He said trying not to sound as disgusted as he was. All eyes turned towards him. "You can't honestly consider selling the elf as a _slave_! Look at him!" He gestured to the unconscious elf at his feet, and noticed the men's gazes follow. "He's dying! He has to get home, he needs the elvish medicine. Do you honestly think the slave market would pay anything for an elf that can't do much more than groan?"   
  
"Oh, they'd pay a fair price for an elf, regardless of the state he's in, as long as he's alive--"   
  
"He's not going to _be_ alive much longer. That's my point," Damus cut in agrily.   
  
"Never underestimate the healing abilities of an elf, boy," Aamussen replied, his gaze burning with annoyance, "I highly doubt this elf is going to die. He'll fight off the poison eventually. And when he does, he'd make an excellent slave. A _noble_ slave." His smirk widened at what he considered to be clever irony.   
  
Damus looked quickly to Barelus, eager to see what the big man was thinking. It was obvious Barelus was liking the idea. He, too, was now sporting a smirk on his wide face.   
  
Fed up, Damus couldn't contain himself any longer. "That's it. I'm taking the elf now. It's clear he's going to die soon without help--help he can only receive in Rivendell." He stooped to pick up the elf, and was suddenly thrown off his feet by a great shove. He stumbled to the ground and looked up to see Aamussen standing over him.   
  
"I've had it with you, boy!" Aamussen said angrily, glaring menacingly down at Damus. "You're not one of us, you do nothing to contribute to the group, you can't respect authority, and you're completely infuriating!" He brought his leg up in a swift, well-aimed kick, slamming Damus square in the jaw.   
  
Stars exploded across Damus' vision as his head snapped back from the force of the blow. He sat dazed for a moment, blinking in pain, before he was completely overtaken by anger. He hated Aamussen, and he was going to show him just how much he hated him. He shook his head to clear his vision a bit before picking himself up and throwing his whole weight into Aamussen, knocking them both to the ground. They rolled around, exchanging punches and cursing in anger. Damus was younger and quite smaller than Aamussen, and though his build was not bad for his age, he was definitely coming off worse in the fight. Finally, Aamussen dealt Damus a rather nasty blow to the side of his head that immediatly subdued the younger man.   
  
Damus lay in the dirt, stunned and struggling not to lose consciousness. The fight was over, and it was only then that he became aware that the other men had surrounded them and were shouting. He was too confused to figure out whether they were cheering or shouting in anger, and he didn't really care. He was fuming with anger, and he had been beaten--beaten by the biggest idiot he knew. He struggled to sit up, but quickly changed his mind and decided he liked it much better on the ground. He had a horrible headache, and any movements he made only set off more sparks of pain. He lay there on the ground, and would normally have been embarrassed having all the men stare at him beaten, bleeding and unable to get up, but at the moment he wasn't able to think clearly enough to be embarrassed.   
  
Aamussen stood up panting, and cast a disdainful, angry look at the injured young man.   
  
"Was that really necessary, Aamussen?" a voice nearby asked.   
  
Aamussen turned fiercely towards the man who had spoken. "I knew you would stick up for him, Traven," he spat, "And, yes, it was necessary. That ignorant boy had it coming for some time now."   
  
Traven knew this was true. The men had never been fond of the boy's attitude. He wasn't surprised about what came next either.   
  
"I don't want him with us anymore, Barelus," Aamussen said, turning towards the leader. "I want him out. He's not one of us, he shouldn't be with us."   
  
"Oh, come on, Aamussen," Traven said, "He's just a boy. You don't honestly mean to kick him--"   
  
"No, he's right," Barelus said, stepping in. He was watching the now unconscious form of the young man lying on the ground, dislike etched all over his face. He turned his gaze to Traven. "The boy's nothing but an annoyance." He nodded at a man standing near to him, and then turned back to Aamussen. "Pick up the elf. Get him on a horse, we need to move."   
  
Aamussen moved towards the sleeping elf, but Traven's gaze was focused on the man Barelus had nodded at. He had moved to his pack and was drawing his sword from its sheath. Traven's stomach dropped as he suddenly realized what the sword was for. His thoughts were confirmed as the man started towards the unconscious form of Damus. This is wrong, Traven thought to himself. All the boy wanted to do was save the life of another, and now they're going to kill him for it.   
  
A feeling of disgust grew inside Traven. The injustice of this infuriated him. The headstrong boy had done nothing wrong, why should he be punished? Not just punished--killed! Traven suddenly realized these feelings must have been similar to how Damus felt about the elf. Why should one so innocent have to suffer? It just wasn't fair, and Traven would be damned before he stood by and just watched it happen.   
  
He strode quickly over to where Damus lay, and watched, furious, as the man preparing to execute the boy approached. He drew his own sword and stood in front of the boy, guarding him. The executor stopped, and looked at Traven, a questioning expression on his face.   
  
"I won't let you touch him," Traven said steadily, "He's just a boy, and he's done nothing wrong."   
  
The other men turned toward to watch, wondering what was going on. Aamussen looked over from where he was struggling with the unconscious elf, trying to lift him onto a horse.   
  
The executor looked questioningly to Barelus, wondering what to do. Barelus strode over to them, clearly upset with the distraction and eager to break camp and move on.   
  
"Traven, stand aside," Barelus said in a rough voice.   
  
"No, Barelus," Traven said, determinedly. He wasn't afraid of these men, and he wasn't going to step aside. "There's no need to kill the boy," he continued, "Leave him with me. I'll take him west to Bree. You won't have to worry about either of us, anymore--"   
  
Barelus raised his eyebrows, "You plan to leave us too?" A dangerous glint lit his eyes.   
  
"Yes," Traven replied evenly. "For the sake of the boy. He can't just be left here, and I will not allow him to killed."   
  
"Oh, you won't?" Barelus asked, his voice low and dangerous, "What do you plan to do about it?"   
  
Traven was angry and he was in no mood to put up with this. "I'll kill whoever comes near him!" he shouted angrily, "True, you outnumber me, but is it really worth one of your lives to find out how serious I am about this?"   
  
Barelus was taken aback. He had never seen Traven like this before. The man was serious; he would kill whoever attempted to hurt the worthless boy. He shook his head, angry at the time they were wasting. The search teams out looking for the elven prince would catch up to them, if they didn't make haste. He knew a fight between the men would only waste more of their precious time, and he had to agree with Traven, it wasn't really necessary.   
  
"Fine," Barelus said, his voice still carrying that hint of danger, "Take the boy and go. But know that if we ever meet again, we won't hesitate to kill you both," He gave Traven one last furious glare before turning towards the men, "Mount up, men, we need to move!"   
  
Aamussen dropped the elf he was struggling to get on the horse, hardly taking notice of the unconscious heap he landed roughly in on the ground. He hurried over to Barelus.   
  
"What?" he demanded, "You're just going to let them go? They know about the elf, Barelus!"   
  
"So?" Barelus replied, thoroughly annoyed now. "What do you think they're going to do about it? They can't stop us. If you'd get the elf ready to go we could be on our way already!" He gave Aamussen an impatient shove towards the elf. "Let's go!" he shouted.   
  
Traven watched as the men hastily prepared to leave. He was still fuming with anger. He couldn't believe how close of a call that had been with Damus. He still didn't really know what had caused him to act so rashly in protecting the boy, but he didn't regret doing it. He would never have forgiven himself if he had allowed the boy to be killed. He watched as Aamussen picked up the unconscious elf and noticed the look of helplessness and innocence on the fair being's sleeping face. Even tinged the slight gray color from the poison coursing through him, the elf's face didn't betray the nobility about him. Traven hated to think of the future that now awaited the helpless creature. Mishandled by cruel men, sold as a slave, and forced to live a life of servitude in most likely harsh conditions. That is, if Aamussen is right about the elf being able to survive the poison. If not, his future wouldn't hold anything more than a tragic death in the hands of those men. It really was unfortunate, Traven found himself thinking, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. The men had disappeared from sight now, the elf in tow.   
  
Traven hesitated for a moment, a small thought growing in his mind. There wasn't anything he could do about the elf now...was there? He shook his head. Don't get involved with this, a voice in the back of his head firmly told him. He and Damus were free to go, why worry about the elf now? But he couldn't get the image of the elf's unconscious face out of his mind. That innocence and helplessness that was now facing the prospect of life in slavery for no reason at all other than the fact that he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It just didn't seem right.   
  
Traven took a deep breath. Why was he doing this? Where were these feelings of guilt coming from? He looked down at Damus lying at his feet. This boy had very nearly given his life for an elf he had never met before in his life. He didn't know what was the cause of such selfless actions, but he suddenly realized that he really admired the boy for it.   
  
He shook his head, realizing what he had to do. This is crazy, he told himself. But he was already resigned to do it, and knew there was no changing his mind. He knelt down and hastily examined the injuries of the boy. They weren't very serious, he concluded, but the boy would probably be out for a while longer. He hastily scrawled a message in the dirt, hoping Damus would see it when he awoke.   
  
Standing up, he adorned his pack, and silently cursed the other men for not leaving him a horse. It wasn't as if he expected them too, however. He almost chuckled imagining Barelus offering him a horse right after he had threatened him with his sword drawn. Wouldn't that have been ironic, Traven mused.   
  
He stopped his musings and brought his thoughts back to his current plans. He still couldn't believe what he was doing, but he shrugged and told himself he didn't really have anything to lose...   
  


  
  
Elladan sighed in exasperation. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! He had been searching for hours and there was not even the slightest hint of a footprint or anything, anywhere! No sound of a horn either, so the others must not be having much luck either. He was starting to get very frustrated, not to mention insanely worried. Where was his twin?   
  
He closed his eyes, searching deep within himself for the slight presence of feeling that was his twin. He didn't know how to describe this feeling, but he knew it was some sort of connection between them. It was hard to feel it when he was so far from his twin, but it was definitely still there. Elrohir was alive. He was sure of that, and that was the only form of comfort that kept him from despairing.   
  
He glanced around at the trees surrounding him. He hated them; he hated all of nature right now. They were hiding his brother from him. They were keeping Elrohir nice and hidden, and they seemed to be taunting Elladan, because they knew he couldn't find him.   
  
Elladan kicked the tree trunk nearest to him in anger. It didn't gain him anything though, except for a dull pain in his toe, and he suddenly realized how stupid it was to be angry at the trees. He desperately needed to blame something though, and the most reasonable thing seemed to be himself. True, he had been drugged and unconscious (a nice going away gift from his brother, he reminded himself bitterly) when Elrohir had disappeared, but merely because of the fact that he wasn't there to protect his brother, made his disappearance his fault.   
  
Oh, why does Elrohir have to put me through this, Elladan wondered desperately. What did I ever do to him? Oh, I _will_ do something to him though, as soon as I get my hands on him, he thought maliciously. I'm going to kill that little orc for making me worry so. First I just have to find him...which leads me back to square one: Where I am right now.   
  
Elladan rubbed his forehead, attempting to clear his thoughts and focus on the present situation. He glanced at the position of the sun. It was just beginning its slow decent towards the western horizon; It was time to turn back and meet up with Glorfindel and the others at the agreed spot.   
  
Elladan was not eager at all to meet up with the others empty handed. He was so sure they would have found Elrohir within the first few hours of their search. He hadn't thought far enough ahead to wonder what they would all do once they met together again without the slightest success of finding Elrohir. He was sure the search would continue on during the night, but he highly doubted Glorfindel would allow him to continue searching with them. He would probably be sent back to the palace like a little helpless elfling in need of constant supervision and protection, he thought bitterly. No, he told himself, they're not sending me back. Not while my brother's still out here somewhere. Not if I can help it. They'll have to tie me up or drug me to get me to go back to the palace. And he grinned to himself smugly, knowing none of them would be brave enough to resort to such desperate measures against an elven lord. Well, an elven lord's _son_, he reminded himself.   
  
He sighed once more, mounting his horse slowly. Please let me find him, Valar, he prayed silently, and turned his horse back the way he had come...   
  
**TBC**   
  
**Author's Note:** Well, it's about time I updated. I'm sorry I stopped writing for about six months there, but I'm really looking forward to finishing this story. Yes, that's right, I _will_ be finishing it. I'm also sorry this chapter didn't even have much of the twins in it. Such a let down, I know. I make you wait six months and then I go and give you the minimal amount of twin angst. Please don't kill me! And please, please leave a review! All you have to do is hit that little button in the left corner there. Reviews help the writing process a _lot_. Look for the next chapter soon! I've really been in the writing mood lately, which means it proabably won't take me that long. I said _probably._   
  
**Responses to Reviewers:**   
  
I love you guys! Every one of you! ::hugs her reviewers::   
  
**DeepBlueSomething:** Yeah, marching up to Elrond's door with one of his sons half-dead, and demanding money would definitely not be a smart move. Fortunately Aamussen was smart enough to realize this.Thanks for the review! Hey, I really think you should write that story you told us about in the twins yahoo group. The plot sounds so good! Please send me a link if you do decide to write it. I really, really want to read it!   
  
**Kaeera:** Thank you so much for your review! You have no idea how flattered I was to hear you liked my story. I'm such a fan of yours. When the Snow Falls is my favorite twin fic ever, and you really are such a wonderful writer. And I don't think it was weird at all of you to wish it was Elrohir in dream all along. I'm just like that, too. The more angst, the better, I say!   
  
**dstrbd child:** Yeah, I know it was so mean of me to leave the story like that. But don't worry, I'm back in the writing phase, and this story will get finished. Thanks so much for your review!   
  
**Kris:** Haha, twin angst is the best, isn't it? Elrohir may or may not die, we'll just have to see. ::evil grin:: Thanks for taking the time to review!   
  
**Legolas-Aragorn-r-hot:** Thank you! You rock too! And I'm really flattered you mentioned my story on your bio page. That's so nice of you! Thanks!   
  
**Coolio02:** I really like Damus too. He's a sweetheart. I hope Elrohir will be okay without him. That's great that you got chapter 2 up on your story. I'll go read it and leave a review as soon as I'm done with these responses.   
  
**Lirenel:** I spared Damus just for you. I hope you're happy. :-p Thanks for the review!   
  
**Shadowfaxgal:** You are such a sweetheart, shadowfaxgal! Thank you so much for that review. That was so flattering, and I'm really not that great of a writer but that's so nice of you to say so! ::hugs::   
  
**Vicki Turner:** I'm sorry you don't really like any of the other guys and I go and give you a whole chapter of them. The next chapter will have much more of Elladan in it, I promise. Thanks for the review!   
  
**elrohir lover:** You better start begging, hun. Hehe, I'm kidding. Thanks for leaving a review!   
  
**Lily Frost:** I'm glad the first chapter made you _want_ to read more, but did you? Hehe, maybe I'll never know. Thanks for the review!   
  
**Iawen Londea:** Thanks for reviewing again, Iawen. Yeah, that was a pretty evil cliffie. I hope you can forgive me for leaving it hanging like that for so long. Ooh, and I love family angst, too. I'll try to work as much of that in as I can.   
  
**lynn:** Yes, racing against time really does suck. And yeah, it really does make me wish I were immortal! Thanks for the concern over my school work. Let me think back to that third term of last year....::thinks really hard:: I think it ended up nicely, but you know, I can't really remember. I can't believe I put school before fanfiction when clearly, it doesn't matter that much to me. I've got to get my priorities straight. ;-) Thanks for the review! ::hugs::   
  
**Felice:** Hi Felice! Your reviews are so nice. Thanks so much. And yeah, I'm excited for their make up scene, too. If they have one, that is, right?   
  
**Someone Reading:** Hey Someone! I promise I didn't forget you guys. How could I forget such nice and consistent reviewers? And I think you're right--coughing up blood is never a good sign. I hope to hear from you again! Thanks for the review. 


	9. Chapter 9

Damus regained consciousness just as the sun was casting its last vibrant streaks of amber through the quiet trees. A stray ray fell across his face, casting a faint golden glow through his closed eyelids. He slowly eased his eyes open, squinting at the unexpected sunlight. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was or when he had allowed himself to fall asleep, and then a sudden sharp pain in the side of his head quickly brought his memories back to him. The argument over the elf, his fight with Aamussen, the unpleasant blows he'd received...  
He glanced around at his surrounding as quickly as his throbbing head would allow. The camp was deserted. The men were gone and they had taken the elf with them.  
  
Damus was furious. He couldn't believe he let Aamussen beat him up like that. He couldn't believe the men would just abandon him here alone with nothing. No food, no horse, and no plan for what to do in the future. He hated those men. He hated every one of them, and he was sure that if they had not kicked him out of the group, he would have left on his own. They were all fools, and they could not see what trouble they were going to end up in for taking the elven prince with them. Damus knew the lord of Rivendell would not rest until he found his son, and if the men were smart they would have returned the elf to his home in hopes of receiving a reward instead of ransom. 'Outlaws always have to complicate things,' Damus thought bitterly. 'I really hope they get what's coming to them.'  
  
He turned his thoughts back to the elf. He was completely defenseless now; there would be no one there to watch out for him. He was still suffering from the poison that now infested his whole system, and the elvish medicine he so desperately needed would probably never be administered to him now. Damus really hoped the elf would be able to fight off the poison and survive the wound, but then again, the prospect of the elf living did not seem much brighter than the prospect of his death. The men were now taking him to be sold as a slave. Who knows what torment and will-bending methods the elf would have to undergo if he did recover from the poison and managed to regain his strength, only to awake and find himself trapped in a life of forced servitude.  
  
Damus slowly sat up, mentally running over the options of what he was to do with his life now. He had no where to go, and knew no one to go to. He desperately wished for his family. His missed them so dearly, and even though it had been several years since he had lost his parents and sister, he had still not managed to fully move on.  
  
He thought again of the elf's family. He tried to picture their faces from modifying how he remembered the elf's looking: Noble and fair with a hint of intrigue that made you want to keep staring. He imagined the lord of Rivendell pacing the length of his magnificent halls, a look of sheer worry and distress permanently etched across his proud features. He imagined the elf's mother, no doubt beautiful and elegant, crying over the unknown whereabouts and conditions of her lost son. He imagined young siblings, normally blissful and full of laughter, now solemn and stony-faced, wondering where their brother was, wishing for him to come home so he could play with them. The picture of grief Damus had painted in his mind was too much. He couldn't take having the elf's family suffer like that. Especially when their suffering could be helped. And Damus was the one who could help them. He could put their troubled minds at ease. He may not be able to return the elf to them, but he could tell them of his whereabouts. He could give them all the details they were so desperately wondering about at this very moment. Damus knew he had to do it. After all, he had no where else to go, and nothing else to do.  
  
Damus slowly stood up, being careful to cause his aching head as little pain as possible. He wondered vaguely if he had suffered a minor concussion from Aamussen's kick. He shrugged, realizing there wasn't much he could do for it even if it was a concussion. He really hoped he had left Aamussen with at least a black eye, or something of the like. He thought he had put up a fairly good fight, and he hated admitting that he had come off much worse from it.  
  
Just as Damus had stood up and was slowly stretching out his cramped and stiff limbs, something on the ground caught his eye. He looked down curiously and saw that it was a message--a message that had been hastily scrawled in the dirt.  
  
STAY HERE  
  
"Stay here?" Damus whispered to himself. 'It must be from Traven!' he thought. 'What does he mean by it, I wonder? He wants me to wait here while he accompanies the men to sell the elf, and then he plans on coming back here for me? Why?' Damus couldn't figure it out. Then a thought suddenly struck him. 'Oh, I get it,' Damus thought, 'Traven knows I would plan on heading to Rivendell to warn the elf's family. He doesn't want me to interfere with their plans.' Damus gave a short laugh. 'That fool,' he thought, 'If he thinks I'm just going to sit here doing nothing for who knows how long, he's got another thing coming.' Damus had always hoped that Traven was different from the other men. He sometimes got the idea that underneath his tough and careless exterior Traven actually had a soft and caring spot. He knew differently now, though. Traven was just like the other men. Damus wanted nothing more than to foil all those idiot's plans. He couldn't wait to get to Rivendell.  
  
He glanced at the thin glowing streak of orange that lined the horizon. The sun had just gone down. He would have to go quickly if he was hoping to allow the elves time to rescue their missing prince. Time was something they were so short on. The elf was fading and the men were moving farther and farther away with their precious contraband in tow with every minute that ticked away.  
  
Damus shook his head, hoping to clear some of the dizziness and discomfort he felt. He had a long walk ahead of him, and now was not the time to be slowed by his own minor problems. He straightened up, and set one foot in front of the other...

* * *

As Elladan emerged from the trees, slightly squinting to see clearly in the failing light, he noticed he was the last member of the search party to gather back at their starting point. All eyes turned towards him as he approached. The mood was somber, and even in the darkness Elladan could make out the looks of disappointment and discouragement each elf wore. It was obvious no one had had any luck with finding Elladan's missing twin.  
  
"Lord Glorfindel, Elladan has just arrived," Elladan heard one of the elves say in a low voice to their superior. Glorfindel turned to see Elladan close the remaining gap between him and the group. A brief glint of relief flashed in Glorfindel's eyes. He had not been too sure if the elder twin would actually come back to the meeting point empty-handed. 'At least I can present Elrond with one son that I promised to keep safe,' Glorfindel thought to himself. But that thought did little to compensate for the immense worry and disappointment he felt at not having found Elrohir yet. An entire day's search had brought up no results. Clearly, they needed to expand their search and bring in more elves to help. Glorfindel hated the fact that the only news his lord would be receiving tonight was that they actually lacked any news to deliver. He stifled a sigh and made his way over to Elladan.  
  
It was immediately clear to Glorfindel that Elladan was taking all this very hard. Despite the elder twin's desperate efforts to appear calm and collected, it was very obvious to Glorfindel, and all the others present, that Elladan was anything but. His eyes still carried that bleak and stunned look they had acquired the previous night in Elrond's study, and his breathing seemed quicker and more sporadic than normal. He looked both exhausted and restless at the same time.  
  
"No luck?" Elladan asked, and despite his appearance, his voice sounded rather steady. Apprehensive yes, but still steady.  
  
Glorfindel slowly shook his head, his eyes locked with the younger elf's, trying to communicate an unspoken apology. "No, Elladan. No one has found any clues as to the whereabouts of your brother yet. But do not be so troubled, young one. We will not give up until we find him. The search will continue without stop until he is found."  
  
Elladan cast his eyes down and nodded. _No luck._ No clue at all. Absolutely nothing to bring him any form of hope or comfort. Elladan was getting so sick of it. He wanted Elrohir found, and he wanted him found _now_. He wanted to be able to drag his twin home and give him the biggest lecture of his life, and then wrestle him down and threaten him with everything under the sky for all the grief he was causing him. He wanted Elrohir to be in good enough condition to be able to wrestle, but most of all he just wanted Elrohir to be with him. He had never before been separated from his twin like this and it was causing him the worst case of anxiety he'd ever experienced. Normally Elladan handled difficult situations calmly, with a clear and focused mind. But Elladan realized that the only reason he was able to handle other difficult situations calmly, was because normally, he always had his twin brother by his side as a beacon of strength. The two of them could face anything together, but one of them could face almost nothing on their own. It was a pretty sad realization to come too, but that's the way it was. Elladan _needed_ his twin brother. It was a matter of survival--for both of them.  
  
Elladan brought his gaze back up to Glorfindel. "We need to get going then. It won't do any good to waste time debating what to do next. Let's move the search further west and explore another radius of ten miles and--"  
  
"Elladan," Glorfindel broke in. "'_We_,' I am sorry to say, is not an option this time."  
  
"What?" Elladan asked, confused.  
  
"_You_ are going back to Rivendell."  
  
Elladan's eyes widened. He was afraid this was going to happen. They couldn't refuse him the right to search for his brother. It just wasn't fair. "No Glorfindel," Elladan said, and this time his voice shook ever so slightly, "That's my brother out there. My _twin_! You can't tell me I'm not allowed to stay out here and continue looking for him!"  
  
"Don't fight me on this, Elladan," Glorfindel replied, his voice calm and stern. "I promised your father I would have you safely home tonight and I'm not about to go back on that."  
  
"I don't care what you promised my father!" Elladan shouted. His nerves had finally snapped. He was so angry, and he needed to vent his anger out on something, anything, even Lord Glorfindel if he must. He knew losing his temper would only make him look like a stubborn child, but he didn't care. He had already lost it. "I'm out here to find my brother and I'm not returning home until I do!"  
  
"Elladan, calm down," Glorfindel said, rapidly losing his patience. The last thing he needed tonight was to deal with a stubborn youth. "The search is going to continue, you have nothing to worry about. We will find your brother. Now quit arguing and don't make this harder than it needs to be. You're old enough to behave rationally now, and I'd hate to send you back to Rivendell tied up in a sack, but I won't hesitate to if you press me. Your father is worried sick for Elrohir, and the last thing he needs is to be concerned for your safety as well, which he will be if I don't return you safely home tonight."  
  
"Glorfindel, I'm a person not a--a _possession_, and I'm fully capable of making my own decisions. I see no rationality behind me being sent back to Rivendell, and I refuse to go until my brother is found. Don't you realize how much this means to me?"  
  
"Don't you realize how much you mean to your father? Don't make him suffer more than he already is, Elladan. Go home and comfort him, and it won't be long until we return with your brother."  
  
Elladan held Glorfindel's gaze steady, his jaw set in a firm line. He was getting his temper back in check and he was contemplating the blonde elf's words. He could see this argument was going nowhere. There was no way Glorfindel was going to allow him to remain with the search party, but Elladan wasn't about to give up so easily. 'When you can't solve your problems with talk, sometimes you just have to take action. Even deceptive action, if the situation calls for it,' Elladan thought to himself, holding back a smirk.  
  
He finally broke his gaze with Glorfindel and let out a defeated sigh. "Fine," he said, "fine. I'll go back to Rivendell and wait for my brother's return there. But Glorfindel," he paused, willing his voice to lose its angry tone, "Please, Glorfindel, you have to find him." His eyes were pleading with the older elf with a certain desperation Glorfindel had never seen in them before. And he could have been mistaken, but he thought he saw a faint hint of defiance in those stony gray eyes as well...  
  
Glorfindel placed his hand on the young elf's shoulder. "We will, young one," He nodded once at Elladan and then turned to the others, "Dirion, Lintarë, it will be your duties to escort Lord Elladan back to Rivendell and to inform Lord Elrond of the results of today's search. Also inform Elrond that we need to at least double the size of the search party. Even more would be helpful at this point, if possible. You must make haste."  
  
Glorfindel walked with Dirion as he made his way to his horse. He lowered his voice so he could not be overheard, "Every hour lost lessens the chances of us ever finding Elrohir. Please be swift. And Dirion," he paused, glancing over his shoulder, "keep a close watch on Elladan. Don't let him out of your sight. Make sure he returns to Rivendell."  
  
"Yes, my lord," Dirion replied, "You'll have no need to worry about Elladan. We will make sure he makes it safely back to Rivendell. We'll plan on meeting up with you again tomorrow morning to rejoin the search," he paused for a moment, "Valar, I hope we find Elrohir soon. I've never seen either of the twins fall apart like Elladan did tonight."  
  
"Yes, I know," Glorfindel agreed, his voice solemn, "Hopefully we will find him before the night gives out and there will be no need for continued search efforts on the morrow."  
  
Dirion nodded and turned to mount his horse. "Lintarë, Elladan, let's go," he said. "We must ride swiftly."  
  
Elladan stood at the side of his horse, rummaging through his pack. 'Where is it?' he asked himself, searching quickly through the contents. 'Aha!' He said to himself pulling out a smaller pack full of his healing herbs and materials. 'I may need these when I find Elrohir,' he thought, shoving the pack under his tunic. 'It wouldn't be smart to leave them with my horse,' Elladan thought, running the details of his escape plan through his mind once more.  
  
"Elladan," Dirion said, more persistent this time, "We need to leave now."  
  
Elladan didn't reply but hastened to mount his horse. "Very well," he said, his voice resigned, "Let's go."

* * *

They rode off into the silver-lit night, the moon shimmering in broken patterns through the trees. Lintarë took the lead, followed closely by Elladan, with Dirion bringing up the rear. Elladan knew they had put him in the middle on purpose. They were worried he might bolt at any moment, unwilling as he was to give up the search for his missing brother. 'And they should be worried,' Elladan thought, smirking to himself, 'because that's exactly what I'm going to do. As soon as the opportunity presents itself...'  
  
Elladan kept his eyes trained on the trees ahead of him in the distance. He had to squint hard to make out the necessary details. He needed a sturdy bough low enough for him to reach and far enough ahead in the distance, so the other two elves wouldn't notice...  
  
Elladan had to hurry. He couldn't let himself get too far away from the area of the search because he was just going to have to backtrack all this ground they were covering, and he would be on foot. He needed to get away as soon as possible.  
  
Finally, after about a half hour's ride, which seemed much longer to the impatient elf, Elladan spotted the perfect chance to escape. Without pausing for a moment's hesitation, Elladan gave a loud shout and half startled, half urged his horse into a full out gallop. He rushed past Lintarë, catching the elf completely off guard, and headed as fast as he could into the darkness ahead. 'Please let me get far enough ahead...please let me get far enough ahead.'  
  
"Elladan!"  
  
Elladan heard the other two elves urge their horses forward, after they had recovered from the brief moment of surprise Elladan had caused them. He brought his feet up under him and crouched low on the saddle. It was almost time to jump. 'Please don't let them see me,' Elladan prayed.  
  
As soon as the tree branch was in position Elladan sprang up as fast and soundlessly as his elven abilities would allow. He caught the bough square across his chest and brought himself around on top of it in one fluid motion. Save for a few rustled leaves, he had hardly made a sound. He held his breath and watched silently as, several seconds later, Dirion and Lintarë passed frantically by beneath him, hastily trying to catch up to the now riderless horse.  
  
Elladan let his breath out in a relieved sigh. It had worked. They hadn't noticed him bail from his horse. He wondered how long it would take for them to catch up to the horse and realize their mistake. 'Well,' he thought, 'I'm certainly not going to stick around to find out.'  
  
He dropped noiselessly to the ground once he was sure the coast was clear. Listening intently with his elven ears he could still hear the galloping horses in the distance. The natural born prankster in him couldn't help but smile at the situation. 'Valar, that had been a good stunt,' he thought to himself, 'Those two never saw it coming. Wait until 'Ro hears about this,' With that thought, however, his smile faded. All the worry and apprehension he had previously been distracted from washed over him once again. His twin was still missing.  
  
Elladan frowned, and tried to push his grief away before it consumed him once again. Now was not the time to break down. He needed to stay focused on the task at hand. He was on his own now, and he needed to be smart if he wanted to continue this solo search for his brother. Not only was he looking for something that he had no idea where to find, but he himself was also now hiding. He knew he would be in big trouble for what he had just done. If Glorfindel found him out wandering around tonight Elladan knew he really wouldn't hesitate to send him home tied up in a sack. Elladan would probably deserve it too. What he had done was sneaky and low, and didn't really contain any form of honor. But Elladan didn't really care much for the consequences of his actions right now. All he cared about was finding Elrohir, and for that, his actions seemed justified--at least to himself.  
  
Elladan set off at a run back in the direction he had come. He decided to head south a ways so he could avoid running into the previous meeting point, or any of the elves that were part of the search team. If he kept far enough south, perhaps he could slip by the searchers unseen, and then head further west to where he believed he might find his brother.  
  
Elladan slipped through the trees, making little more sound than a gentle summer's breeze would. He was surprised at how refreshed and energetic he felt, despite the fact that it would nearly be twenty-four hours since he had last slept. Sleep was probably the last thing on his mind right now, however. He didn't need it at the moment, and he knew he probably wouldn't get it for quite a while. At least not until Elrohir was found.

* * *

After about three and a half hours of alternating between brisk walking and jogging through the quiet night, Elladan suddenly came to an abrupt halt. He stared into the silver-lined darkness around him, swearing he had sensed something. Yes, he _had_ sensed something, and he could sense it still. Something was approaching from directly ahead of him. Elladan wasn't sure how far off it was, but he wasn't itching to remain in plain sight to find out. He quickly pressed his lithe body against the trunk of a nearby tree, unsheathing his hunting knife in the process. Whatever he was about to meet wasn't...evil, that much he could tell. He would have a much fouler feeling of foreboding if it was.  
  
He waited in silence for several minutes, until he heard the distinct sound of footsteps heading his way. 'It's a person,' Elladan thought. 'But I don't think it's an elf...I would be able to tell if it was.' Confusion befuddling his mind, Elladan peeked around the tree, eager to get a glimpse of his uninvited visitor.  
  
He could see him now, moonlight dappled across his face and lean body as he stalked across the ground, obviously not making much of an effort to conceal his presence from anyone that might be watching. It was a man. A young man, probably no more than eighteen or nineteen years of age. Elladan was extremely surprised and confused. 'What would a man be doing strolling around in these parts in the dead of night? And apparently alone?' It made no sense to Elladan, but it did light a glimmer of hope deep inside of him. This could have some form of connection to Elrohir.  
  
Elladan waited until the man was just about to pass by, when he suddenly and soundlessly emerged from his hiding place and was on the unexpecting man before he could even blink.  
  
Twisting an arm sharply behind the man's back, he moved almost fluidly, bringing his knife up to rest firmly against the man's throat. The man had barely uttered a gasp before he was completely subdued by the attacking elf.  
  
"Don't move," Elladan whispered, his voice low and dangerous.  
  
The man complied, still too shocked to fully understand what had happened.  
  
"Who are you?" Elladan asked, his voice still carrying that deadly tone.  
  
"I was just about to ask you the same thing," the man answered, after finally finding his voice.  
  
Elladan pressed more firmly with his knife, causing the man to wince and draw back.  
  
"Please," the man said, still trying to shy away from the knife, "I am no enemy. You can release me, I mean you no harm."  
  
Elladan hesitated for a moment, considering the man's words. His voice had sounded sincere, and this man didn't give off the wary feeling that an enemy would. Elladan decided he would take the man's word for it, and pulled his knife away, releasing his hold on his arm at the same time. He didn't sheath his knife, however, but held it ready at his side.  
  
The man took deep breaths, rubbing his neck where the knife had left a mark. Elladan could tell he was still shaken up from the scare he had received--his hand was shaking ever so slightly. After taking a moment or two to calm down the man turned to face his attacker.  
  
He gasped audibly.  
  
Elladan waited for the expected comment of, _'You're an elf!'_ But that comment didn't come. What the man actually said to him, caught him completely off-guard and made him blink in stunned disbelief.  
  
"I thought you were dying! How did you manage to escape, and what are you doing here?" were the words that issued from the young man's mouth.  
  
Elladan's jaw dropped. "_Dying?!_" his eyes widened, and everything around him started to spin. "Oh, Valar, no," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. He immediately knew this young man was talking about his brother. This man knew where Elrohir was. It was the classic case of mistaken identity that seemed to frequently play a part in the identical twin's lives.  
  
The man's brow furrowed in utter confusion. Here, in front of him, was the elf prince, only he didn't seem to be injured at all anymore, and he seemed to be quite alone--no sign of the other men were to be seen, and he also seemed to be just as confused as he was. The man shook his head, trying to make some sense of what was going on.  
  
"You don't know who I am," the man said, "because you were unconscious the whole time, but uh," he didn't quite know what to say, "I was looking out for you while--while you were...ill," he paused, "I really don't understand what's going on. How did you recover from the poison, and further more, how did you escape Barelus' slavery ploy?"  
  
_Unconscious...Poison...Slavery..._ Elladan almost doubled over as a sudden wave of nausea rushed over him. All of these words were clues to his brother's current condition. A cold sweat broke out on his brow, and he tried to force himself not to panic. He started hyperventilating, and couldn't do anything to prevent it. _Elrohir was dying._  
  
"Listen," Elladan said in a weak voice, after taking a moment to catch his breath, "You have to tell me everything. This elf you speak of is my twin brother. He's been missing since yesterday, and we've had no clues as to what has befallen him. Please, tell me where he is. Please tell me everything," Elladan's voice was pleading and was clearly on the verge of panic.  
  
The man stared at him with a mixture of pity and great surprise in his gaze. _Twins...?_ It was starting to make a little more sense...  
  
"Please," Elladan begged again, disrupting the man's thoughts "Tell me what you know of him."  
  
The man then commenced to explain all the events that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours or so. He left out no details, explaining everything from the plans of ransom, to the plans of slavery, and even his own plans of saving the elf. He told about the elf's orc-inflicted wound and how the poison was quickly taking it's toll, and that the elf was in dire need of medical attention. He finished by explaining how he was on his way to Rivendell to tell the elf's family everything he had just told Elladan, when their strange meeting had unexpectedly occurred.  
  
Elladan sat in silence when Damus finally finished his long tale. He couldn't believe it. Elrohir was in a much worse situation than he had ever even imagined he could be in. 'Oh, Valar, what do I do?!' he wondered desperately. 'Please don't let my brother die. Please don't let him die.'  
  
"Damus," Elladan said, "You have to take me to him. You're the only one who knows where he is!"  
  
"What?" Damus asked, "You mean you'd rather go after him by yourself than go and warn your father about what has happened?"  
  
"There's no _time_ to go all the way back to Rivendell. My brother's dying! I have to save him, and you're the only one who can take me to him."  
  
"Elladan," Damus replied, "I'm not even sure of where they're taking him--"  
  
"Please, Damus," Elladan cut him off, "I know you've already risked your neck several times on account of my brother, and to that I owe you everything, but I'm asking you to please help me with this. Just take me to where I'll find him. That's all I ask. You don't have to get involved with the actual rescue."  
  
"Elladan, I really don't think this is the best idea. You'll be greatly outnumbered, and frankly, you won't stand a chan--"  
  
"This is my brother's _life_ we're talking about, Damus. Going after him is the only option I have right now. There's no time for anything else. He needs to be healed as soon as possible, or he might die!"  
  
"Okay, okay," Damus said, trying to calm Elladan down. "I'll take you to where we were camped this morning, and we can track the men from there. But listen, Elladan, I really don't think this plan is worth--"  
  
"I'll make it worth it, Damus," Elladan broke in hurriedly. "I'll make sure you're greatly rewarded for all that you've done. Just please help me for now."  
  
Damus stared at the elf's intense gray eyes shining in the moonlight, and gave the elf a firm nod. 'He truly must care more for his brother than anything else in the entire world--including his own life,' Damus thought, 'since he seems to be completely throwing it away with this foolish plan of his. But it's true, he doesn't really have any other option if he plans to save his brother's life. Let's just hope he succeeds.'  
  
Together, the two lean figures took off at a run into the night...

****

**TBC**

* * *

****  
  
**Author's Notes:** Well, that wasn't too long of a wait for an update, don't you think? I'm pretty proud of myself. :-) I really hope you liked this chapter! This is probably the one I've had the most fun writing so far. Elladan's going through a pretty rough time. He doesn't seem to be making too many wise decisions, either. Once Glorfindel and Elrond find out about Elladan's little escapade, they probably won't be too happy with him. And this is all Elrohir's fault too! Poor Elladan has to go through so much, while all Elrohir does is sleep away, oblivious to everyone else's concern over him. Anyways, I really hope you'll leave a review! It's not hard, and you don't really have to say that much, or even anything that intelligible. I'll be happy with anything! Thanks for reading. :-)  
  
**Review Responses:**  
  
You guys are wonderful!  
  
**Barbware:** Yes, I agree, poor Elladan.  
  
**Nimrodel Lorellin:** Thank you for your review!  
  
**DeepBlueSomething:** Thanks so much for your comments. Yeah, I'm also thinking that it just might take a little time for Elrohir to recover. Just a little. ;-)  
  
**Felice:** Hey Felice! Yay, another reviewer that stuck with me even after my long absence from updating! Thank you!  
  
**Ellfine:** Hi Ellfine, thanks for your nice comments. I won't go that long without updating again, don't worry. I hope you liked chapter 9!  
  
**Shadowfaxgal:** Yay! Another review from Shadowfaxgal! Your reviews are so nice and they really make my day. Thanks so much for taking the time to leave such nice comments. You're so sweet! ::hugs:: Oh, and I did send you an e-mail, but I'm not sure if I sent it to the right address or not...That would be really embarrassing if I didn't. Haha, oh well. I hereby officially declare us friends. :-)  
  
**Lynn-G:** Thanks for the review! Yes, it was about time...sorry about that.


	10. Chapter 10

"_What?_" 

Glorfindel gave Lintarë a dry, exasperated look, hardly believing the news he had just received. He brought his hand up and slowly rubbed his brow, hoping to prevent his already aching head from worsening.

"He just disappeared?" he asked slowly, looking up at the remorseful elf in front of him. "He just managed to slip right out from under your nose!"

"I am truly sorry, Glorfindel," Lintarë replied, hating the position he was in more and more, "Elladan bolted from us very unexpectedly, and when we managed to catch up with his horse, it was rider less. Neither Dirion nor I noticed him leave his horse at any point of the chase, yet he managed to do so. Forgive me," he said, bowing his head, "I failed to fulfill the charge appointed to me."

Glorfindel cocked his head slightly, and a sympathetic expression replaced his scowl. He hadn't meant to sound so accusing. "Do not blame yourself for this, Lintarë. Nor think me angry at you. The fault rests with me alone. I should have known Elladan would resort to such measures. I am afraid I underestimated Elladan's infuriating impulsiveness. Wait until I get my hands on him..."

He shook his head, his stress level mounting considerably. 'This is just wonderful,' he thought to himself sarcastically, 'Now both of the twins are off on their own, Valar knows where, separated and unprotected, and no nearer to ending this exhausting and unpleasant search than when it began. Matters have only gotten worse. What was Elladan _thinking?_ There could still be orcs about. He could get hurt, or lost, and he's hardly ever been by himself at any time in his life--Elrohir has always been by his side. He might not even be capable of basic survival skills without his brother. I should have just let him stay with me. At least he would have been safe. And running away from his escort like that is just unacceptable. I'm going to have to have a long talk with him when I find him, and no doubt Elrond will too.' And remembering the twin's father suddenly filled Glorfindel with immense guilt. He had promised his friend that he would find Elrohir and protect Elladan and so far he had failed to do both. He clenched his fists, admonishing himself he would not return to Rivendell without finding the twins--both in one piece, he might add.

"What does Dirion plan on telling Elrond?" Glorfindel asked, bringing his attention back to Lintarë.

"The truth, my lord," Lintarë replied. "I only wish he did not have to deliver that last bit of bad news about Elladan, but alas, there's no helping it now." he paused for a moment, "Although, I do not think it should be too difficult to find Elladan again once daylight comes. After all, he will most likely be searching the same area as us, and with reinforcements there will be more of us for him to try and avoid, if indeed avoiding us is part of his plan."

Glorfindel let out a short, derisive laugh, "Don't make the same mistake I made of underestimating the sneaky cunning of Elladan. But I think you may be right. He probably will try his hardest to avoid us, but we will not make it easy for him. We need to inform the rest of the group of our 'fugitive' and that we need to be on the lookout for him now as well."

Glorfindel and Lintarë turned, preparing to gather the others together and inform them of the news, when a nearby shout caught both their attention.

"Glorfindel!" an elf a little ways in the distance shouted. He turned this way and that, searching for the blonde elf in the darkness. "Glorfindel!" he shouted again urgently.

Glorfindel raised in arm in acknowledgement and gave a shout in reply. The other elf rushed over to him.

"What is it, Ethirnen?" Glorfindel asked, looking anxiously at his companion's urgent face. "Did you find something!"

"Actually, my lord," the elf replied, hastily trying to regain his breath, "something seems to have found us."

A questioning look of confusion settled across Glorfindel's face. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for more of an explanation. The other elf didn't offer one, however. He simply motioned for Glorfindel to follow him.

"Come, my lord," the elf said, "I think our questions as to Lord Elrohir's whereabouts are finally about to be answered."

A spark of hope and excitement lit Glorfindel's eyes and he immediately followed the elf, anxious to see what they had found; or as Ethirnen had put it, 'what had found them.'

* * *

The faint swish of robes was the only sound that emanated through the hushed and solemn ambience of the lord of Rivendell's study. Elrond was pacing--walking up and down the length of the room in an endless procession, plagued with thoughts of distress and tormenting worry. No word. No news of any kind had yet reached him of his missing son. If there was one thing that drove Elrond to the brink of distraction, it was all this not knowing. He hated facing the prospect that anything could have happened. He hated having scenarios of random horrible accidents flash through his mind. The possibilities of what could have happened to Elrohir were too numerous, and he wished desperately that all his guesses and dark imaginings would be put to rest with some solid facts.

He also longed for the companionship of his wife. He needed her comforting presence during this time of grief. He needed someone to which he could voice the inner turmoil that wracked his thoughts, and Celebrian was the only person he could be so open with. 'She would be suffering just as much as I, however, if she were here. Perhaps it is better that she is in Lothlorien,' Elrond thought. 'At least she's free from care and worry at the moment,' he paused, 'But then again, no parent deserves to have the well-being of their children kept a secret from them. Celebrian needs to know what has happened. But sending a message at this point would serve no purpose--I have no news to send her as I have not yet received any myself!'

He turned on his heel again, his robes billowing behind him. He could do nothing to prevent the immense frustration he was feeling from mounting even more. 'Ah, why am I so angry?' he wondered desperately, trying to calm himself down. 'What is there to direct my anger at? Glorfindel? If there's one person that does _not_ deserve my anger, it's Glorfindel. Glorfindel has always been there as my friend in time of need. I'll receive news soon enough. He knows of my impatience and he won't leave me in the dark for much longer.' Elrond assured himself, his anger having lessened a bit. 'Alas, there is nothing for me to be angry at, save for those orcs, maybe, and fortunately they were already slaughtered.' Elrond thought with grim satisfaction. 'It will help no one to completely lose my patience, least of all Elrohir,' Elrond admonished himself.

Elrond's brow furrowed in distress as his thoughts turned inevitably towards the missing twin. Elrohir. His young warrior. His precious son. It had only been a few days ago that Elrohir had been sitting at the dinner table, beaming as his brother bragged about the amazing shot he had made while practicing out on the field. It had only been a few years ago that that little elfling had stolen his father's heart, racing towards him through brightly lit halls, leaping into Elrond's arms and wrapping his little arms tightly around his neck. Elrohir. Always quick to laugh. Always one to understand. His smiling face beamed in Elrond's memory.

Elrond shut his eyes tight, savoring the precious memories, while at the same time willing them to go away. If he thought too hard about how much he loved his youngest son, surely he would break down, and that was the last thing he needed to do at the moment.

A soft knock at the door disrupted Elrond's thoughts and he opened his eyes eagerly, hoping desperately that just maybe the search team had found his son.

He cleared his voice. "Come in."

The door opened softly, almost timid-like. Erestor appeared at the threshold, calm and collected, and Elrond could immediately tell from his advisor's manner that he did not have any great news such as Elrohir being found, to deliver to him.

"My lord," Erestor said, bowing respectfully. Elrond could tell Erestor felt greatly sorry for him. It must not have been very difficult to tell how miserable the lord of Rivendell was.

"Yes? What is it?" Elrond asked impatiently. He was in no mood for formalities.

"Dirion has returned from the search with his report of their progress."

_Progress._ 'So he has not been found,' Elrond thought dejectedly.

"Send him in," Elrond said, eager to hear the news, while at the same time disappointed that news was all that was being delivered to him tonight. He wished they had found his son.

Dirion entered the room a moment later, looking calm for the most part, but a hint of apprehension and remorse could clearly be seen in his eyes. He bowed before Elrond, hoping this meeting would be brief. He desperately hated the position he was in. Not only did he have to inform Elrond about the misfortune of not finding so much as a clue as to Elrohir's whereabouts, but he also had to deliver the news about Elladan! 'This is not going to be good...' he thought to himself with a resigned sigh.

Dirion bowed slightly, his eyes locked with Elrond's, trying to communicate what he had to tell him without actually saying the words. "My Lord," he said softly.

There was no mistaking Dirion's somberness. Elrond gave a slight nod, "Elrohir has not been found," The weariness in his voice was evident. "It is clear to see that from your demeanor," He turned away, trying for Dirion's sake to keep his frustrations in check.

"I am sorry, Lord Elrond," Dirion said. He paused for a moment, wondering what he should say next. He knew he needed to mention Elladan, but he didn't quite know how to present that bit of news. He decided he'd save that bit of news for last. "Glorfindel won't give up, my lord. Not until your son is found. He requests the search team be doubled, and that they leave as soon as possible to meet up with the others. The search will continue without delay until Elrohir is found."

Elrond nodded, turning back to face Dirion, "Yes, I'll give the order for reinforcements to leave immediately." he paused, "Thank you, Dirion. You may go."

Elrond turned away again, his thoughts tumbling over one another. "Oh, wait," he said abruptly, turning back towards Dirion. He had expected Dirion to be half-way towards the door, but he was standing just where he was a moment ago, facing Elrond, with a pained look on his face.

Elrond paused for a moment, trying to read Dirion's expression "Elladan returned with you, I assume?" he asked slowly, his brow furrowed.

Dirion winced ever so slightly. "My lord, I am afraid that is the other bit of bad news I have to deliver to you."

Elrond's eyebrows shot up at this. 'Other bad news?' he thought, his stomach dropping. 'Oh no, what has Elladan done now...?'

Dirion hesitated slightly. "On returning to Rivendell with Lintarë and me, Elladan bolted from us. He took us by surprise, my lord, and when we caught up with his horse, Elladan was nowhere to be found. Apparently he was not very keen on the idea of being forced to discontinue the search without his brother being found..."

Elrond let out a long, slow breath, bringing a hand up to rub his brow. "Elladan," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. It was very apparent the lord of Rivendell was not at all amused by this news. He kept his thoughts to himself for a moment while Dirion watched him anxiously.

Elrond looked up after a moment, bringing his attention back to Dirion. His face was a mask of annoyance and frustration, and his mood was growing fouler by the minute. "Tell the team to find Elladan and to make sure he makes it home this time," he said shortly.

Dirion's mouth tightened with those words. He felt humiliated. "I am so sorry, my lord," he said quickly, and his eyes showed it. "We just weren't expecting--"

"Dirion," Elrond said, cutting him off. "Do not think you need to apologize. Elladan had no right to abandon an escort like that. Not to mention the fact that he deliberately went against mine and Glorfindel's wishes by doing so. Believe me, him and I will have a talk about this when he gets home."

Dirion nodded faintly, grateful to Elrond for not blaming him, but also feeling a bit guilty, as if he had ratted Elladan out. His guilt must have shown on his face, for Elrond noticed it.

Elrond snorted slightly. "Do not feel bad for Elladan, Dirion," he said, "That cunning orc deserves no sympathy."

Dirion looked up at Elrond and noticed a faint half-smile on his face. It disappeared quickly, however.

"Please tell them to send Elladan home once he's found," Elrond said, turning away, "And please," he paused, "let me know of any news regarding Elrohir as soon as possible."

"I will, lord Elrond," Dirion said, bowing. He respected this elf before him so much, and he wanted nothing more than to help relieve him of the burden of worry and frustration that he bore. 'We'll find the twins,' he thought, nodding to himself. And with that, he turned and strode out of the room, his determination renewed.

* * *

The sky was just beginning to show its first hints of dawn when Elladan and Damus reached their destination. They had arrived at the camp that the men had set off from with Elrohir in tow the previous morning. They had made excellent time due to their practically non-stop jog through the night. Elladan hadn't expected them to find the camp until some time after sun-up but they had actually managed to beat the sun. Elladan looked at his surroundings. Yes, men had been here, all right. There were signs of it everywhere: numerous footprints, trampled vegetation, a hastily putout fire. Elladan couldn't help but think of what better condition the area would be in if it had been elves that camped here instead of men.

Elladan glanced over to his human companion. Damus had straightaway found himself a comfortable seat against the nearest tree. His head was leaned back against the trunk and his eyes were already shut. He looked exhausted. And he should be. He had kept pace with an elf all through the night, which was no easy task, considering that he was a human and that he had already been traveling throughout the whole previous day. Elladan was nothing short of impressed with the man's endurance. And nothing short of grateful, either. Damus had no reason to be with Elladan at all other than the fact that Elladan had requested his help. Elladan studied the man with admiration. This was the type of person all men should try to model. Unselfish, caring, and well, just plain good. Elladan did not know Damus very well, seeing as how they had just met, but yet he already felt very close to him. Perhaps it was his gratitude and instant trust in the young man that quickly forged a bond between them. Elladan wasn't sure. But he was so glad for the stroke of luck that had been delivered to him when he met Damus the previous night. Damus was leading him to Elrohir.

Damus opened his eyes and looked up at the elf. "Well, we managed to find it," he said, referring to the camp.

"Yes," Elladan agreed, "Thanks to you. It shouldn't be hard at all to track the men from here," he gestured to the tracks leading west, "And if they stopped for the night, which you seem pretty sure they would have, then catching up with them doesn't seem too far off!"

"You seem pretty excited for a kid who's heading straight for a deathtrap," Damus said, shaking his head slightly, a half-grin on his face.

Elladan snorted, "Kid? I'm older than you, you know."

Damus shrugged, still smirking, "You don't look it," he paused for a moment, sobering, "I'm not joking though, Elladan. I still think this plan of yours is ridiculously foolish."

"Well, you only think that because there is no set plan yet--"

"Exactly--" Damus cut in.

"But once I come up with something," Elladan continued hastily, "you'll think otherwise."

"I know how important it is for you to reach your brother," Damus said, "but I still think we should have taken some time to seek out the search party looking for Elrohir. You'll need their aid, Elladan. Maybe we should backtrack a bit and see if we can find--"

"No. There's no time to backtrack. I have to reach him and take care of the poison! He's been infected with it far too long already. Valar, I hope I won't be too late." He paused and brought his gaze back to Damus. "Listen, thanks for everything, Damus. Really, I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't run into you--"

"Ambushed me is more what you did, actually," Damus interrupted.

Elladan laughed. "And just a moment ago you were calling me a kid. What does that say about you, I wonder?"

Damus laughed at the elf's wit. He had never known elves were creatures for jokes and bantering.

Elladan held out his hand. "Anyway, thanks. I'll make sure you're well repaid for this."

Damus looked up at Elladan but didn't accept his hand. "When did we agree we were splitting up at the camp?" Damus asked. "I don't feel right about letting you confront the men alone. You're only headed for trouble. They know me; I might be able to help you make some sort of negotiations with them or something."

"No, Damus, I've already gotten you too involved in this," Elladan replied. "I appreciate what you've done, but I can't ask anymore--"

"You're not asking, Elladan," Damus answered, "I have nowhere else to go, and really, I think you're going to need me."

"But, if the men hurt you, if something were to happen, it would be my fault," Elladan insisted.

Damus let out a short laugh.

"What?" Elladan asked.

"You sound like me," Damus said, smiling. "Come on, we have to hurry," And with that he jumped up and led the way on the westward tracks.

Elladan shook his head, grinning. He couldn't help but be glad at the fact that Damus was insisting on going with him. Damus' lightheartedness was just what Elladan needed to distract him from his worry. But soon he wouldn't have to worry anymore, he reminded himself. Soon he would find his brother and soon he would take him home.

* * *

"Wait, Elladan," Damus called out, slowing to a stop. "You elves--truly are--relentless," he said between gulps of air.

Elladan slowed to a stop and turned to see Damus taking large gulps from his water pouch. They had been jogging at a brisk pace the entire day (not to mention the entire previous night, as well) and Damus had every right to ask for a break. The sun had set a couple of hours ago and the night was crisp and cool, lit brightly by a round, haloed moon. Elladan found himself longing for water as well. He hadn't been paying any attention to his body's needs for quite some time now. His thoughts had instead been on Elrohir and the coming encounter with the men he was soon to catch up with.

Elladan gratefully accepted the water pouch when Damus had had his share. He took several eager gulps and felt the cool water instantly rejuvenate him. 'Just a little farther to go,' he told himself. He was sure the men could not be much farther ahead now, assuming they had stopped to rest both nights, which, Damus assured him, they undoubtedly had.

Elladan handed the water pouch back to Damus and squinted at him in the darkness. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Damus replied, still breathing heavily, "Just a little tired is all," he said with a half-smile. "I hope I haven't slowed you down too much, with me being a human and all."

"No, of course not," Elladan replied. "On the contrary, I've found it rather difficult keeping up with _you_" That wasn't exactly true, but Elladan saw no harm in saying so.

Damus gave a weak laugh, "I'm sure you have," he paused and took one more swallow of water. "How much farther ahead do you think they are?" he asked, hooking the pouch back on his belt.

"These tracks look..." Elladan said, studying them closely, "three, maybe four hours old. And they probably set up camp I'm guessing two hours ago, so we could be upon the camp in as little as an hour!"

Damus could see Elladan's eyes light up with excitement in the moonlight. He wasn't trying to crush the elf's spirits, but he had to bring this up again, "Any ideas yet as to what you're going to do when you reach the camp?"

Elladan lowered his gaze, his excitement fading, "Well, I can only go with the one sensible option,"

"Which is?"

"To sneak Elrohir out while everyone's asleep."

Damus thought that would be the answer. He couldn't help letting out a doubtful sigh.

"Well, what would you suggest?" Elladan asked.

"No, you're right," Damus said, "that's our only option if escape is part of your plan as well. But I happen to know that many of those men are very light sleepers. This won't be an easy task, Elladan. You'll have to be very careful."

"Oh, really? And I thought it was going to be delightfully fun and simple to just skip into camp, grab my brother, and skip away again."

Damus didn't find Elladan's sarcasm humorous this time. "I'm just saying to use caution, that's all," he said.

"I know," Elladan said apologetically, the sarcasm gone from his voice. It returned a split second later however, "They're just _men_ though, remember? And I happen to be an elf. So, it can't be _too_ hard now, can it?"

Damus shook his head, smiling. "You elves and your superiority complexes."

Elladan hooted at that. "Come on, human," he said, still smiling, "Let's go."

They set off at their usual brisk pace once more, Elladan leading the way. Their footsteps quietly resounded through the night air in a steady, endless procession that went unheard by the two companions. Their thoughts were elsewhere-- in the looming night ahead of them, or with the difficult task that lay ahead, or even on the past. Anything that took their minds off the current tiring jog they were engaged in. 'One more hour,' was what whispered in their minds anytime a muscle spasmed painfully, or an overbearing need for water caught their attention. They both knew their troubles wouldn't be fully over in one hour, however. The jog would, yes, but not their troubles. They never actually considered that the real trouble might just be beginning, however...

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: Hi, guys! It's an update, can you believe it?Sorry this chapter lacked anything remotely exciting.I'm sure by now I've lost the interest of anyone who was reading in this story, but that's still not stopping me from finishing it! It's almost done! I have no excuse as to why it's taken me so ridiculously long to write this story, but life's demanding, you know? If only we all had more time to devote to hobbies...Oh well. Leave a review, please!The next chapter's already written and will be posted soon. And after that, I think there will just be one more to write! I really hope you guys enjoy the rest of it. Thanks for reading. :-) 


	11. Chapter 11

"That's them, all right," Damus whispered, peering through the vegetation that concealed him and Elladan. They had arrived at the camp where they hoped to find Elrohir no less than five minutes ago, and silently as possible, they snuck as close as they could to investigate. 

"My brother--do you see my brother anywhere?" Elladan asked, scanning the area frantically. One of those sleeping figures had to match the figure of his twin. They just had to! He couldn't make out any that could be an elf, however, and he was starting to get a little panicky. If Elrohir wasn't here--

"There," Damus said quietly, pointing towards the north end of the camp. Elladan looked to where Damus gestured and sure enough, he could make out a lone figure lying on the ground, slim and smaller than the others. He was covered with a blanket and his back was towards them. Elladan instantly knew it was Elrohir.

"That's him!" Elladan said, straining to keep his voice a whisper when he wanted to do nothing more than shout out Elrohir's name. "Thank the Valar, we found him."

"Shh," Damus said, afraid the elf was whispering too loud. "You'll have to skirt the camp over to the north side. Fortunately, the man on watch is an idiot and cares nothing for the prisoner. He's sitting down there on the south end. And there are only a few men around Elrohir, but they're fast asleep. This might be easier than we thought, Elladan!" he said, grinning. "Go now, we shouldn't waste any time. I'll come around with you to the north end and wait for you in the brush while you grab Elrohir. I'll help you carry him and we'll get out of here as fast as we can."

"What about the horses? Should we try and take one?"

"No, the watchman would hear us for sure. We'll get a good enough head start if we can sneak out unnoticed."

Elladan nodded. "Alright, let's go." Normally he would have been very nervous about what he was attempting to do, but with the elation of having found his twin, combined with the adrenaline that was pumping through his blood, he felt nothing but sheer determination.

The two figures made their way silently around the camp to the north side. Damus crouched down behind a bush and nodded to Elladan, signaling him to go ahead. Elladan nodded back, meaning it as a gesture of thanks to Damus for being there with him. Damus understood and waved him on.

Elladan crept ahead, making absolutely no noise. He had never been more grateful for his elven abilities than he was at this moment. He stopped a couple yards away from Elrohir to examine the camp once more. No one was stirring. The silence hung about Elladan like something desperately fragile. Elladan had to make sure nothing would break it.

He turned his attention to his brother lying motionless several feet away. He could make out a few more details of his condition now that he was closer and his back was not to him. Elladan was relieved to tell from his brother's position that he had not been bound. But that also meant that he had never been conscious either, which could not be a good thing. He silently closed the remaining gap between him and Elrohir, and knelt beside his brother, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. It was then that he noticed that there was a gag in Elrohir's mouth. Elladan flushed with anger. No one had the right to treat his brother like that, least of all these disgusting, despicable outlaws. He hurriedly untied it and pulled it away from his brother's mouth. He was about to toss it aside when he noticed it was covered with blood. His stomach gave a very unpleasant lurch and he quickly glanced back to his brother's face, desperate for more clues as to his condition. He was still alive, wasn't he? 'Yes, he's breathing,' Elladan thought, a small sigh of relief escaping him, 'albeit weakly, but still breathing.' He had to start working on healing him as soon as possible. But first he had to get him out of this camp and away from these horrible men.

He slid an arm as carefully as he could under Elrohir's neck and another arm under his knees. Moving as cautiously as he could, he braced himself to lift the load. As soon as he moved his twin however, a loud moan of pain escaped from Elrohir's mouth, piercing the delicate silence that surrounded them. Elladan frantically dropped his brother and clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the noise considerably, but it was too late. One of the men sleeping near Elrohir had awoken. Thinking it nothing at first however, the man glanced over at the sleeping prisoner, ready to tell the unconscious figure to shut up, but when he saw a lean figure in the darkness looming over the prisoner he immediately exclaimed in confusion, "What the...!" He sat up and gave another shout to rouse the camp.

Elladan was fumbling with his twin, desperately trying to lift his dead weight and get both of them out of there as quickly as possible. How in Valar's name had he let that happen? Why couldn't he have just taken the gag out when they were away from the camp? Why was he such a fool? 'Ah, 'Ro, why did you have to give us away!' he wondered, angrily. But he knew he couldn't blame his unconscious brother for this mess they were in.

It was too dark to tell exactly what was going on, or how many men there were, but amidst shouts and confusion, Elladan suddenly felt himself wrenched away from Elrohir. He struggled desperately to break free, but he knew there was no way out of this. There was no chance he could get himself out of there now, let alone with Elrohir. His arms were immediately pinned by one, two men? He had no idea. He felt another hand clamp over his throat sealing off his voice and his breath. He could make out a few shouts among the commotion--

"Someone light a torch!"

"We've got him!"

"What happened? What is it?"

Elladan was held fast by three men, but he was still struggling as a torch was at last lit and brought near. Someone slugged him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over as much as he his captors would allow. The man holding the torch brought it close to Elladan's face so the rest of them could get a good look at the intruder.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" It was Aamussen who spoke and held the torch. He took Elladan's chin, bringing his face up so they could all get a good look at it. Elladan was still struggling to regain his breath.

"It's an elf!" one of the men shouted.

"They've come after us!" another shouted in fear.

"No, no," said Aamussen, "He's alone. If he had brought an elven army, we'd all be dead by now." He paused, examining the elf's face intently for a moment. "He looks...he looks _exactly_ like the other elf..." he said in confusion. The other men looked between the two elves in the torchlight, noting the same observation Aamussen had made. The elves were strikingly identical.

Elladan stood glaring at the men while they marveled in confusion. Only when he made another desperate attempt to break free did they bring their attention back to the situation. The three holding him tightened up on him once more, preventing any chance of escape.

"What's going on here?" a gruff voice asked. It was Barelus, the self-elected leader of the outlaws and he was pushing men aside, making his way to the center of the group to see what all the commotion was about.

"Another elf, sir" Aamussen answered. "We caught him trying to steal our prisoner."

Barelus turned a hard gaze on Elladan. "Is that so? Well, you're lucky he didn't succeed." he told his men threateningly. "He's alone, I take it?" he asked glancing around, noting the men's confirming nods. "Tie him up!" he barked, "And let's learn all we can from this fool of an elf, shall we?" he said giving Elladan a nasty smirk before turning away.

No sooner had the order been given than it was being carried out. Elladan suddenly found himself roughly thrown onto the ground. His arms were gripped tightly and held firmly behind his back as his wrists were securely lashed together. The ropes were tight and painful and Elladan couldn't stand being tied up. Even when he and Elrohir were little and would play 'warriors' with the other young elflings in Rivendell, being tied up always made him sick. But this wasn't a game, this was real, and it made it all the worse. They bound his ankles next, and no more gently than they had his arms.

When they were satisfied with their job and convinced Elladan couldn't escape they hauled him up on his knees and backed away. Elladan hadn't said a word throughout any of this, mainly because he didn't think trying to talk to the men would make any difference at this point. He was so angry with the turn of events this whole situation had taken and he was sure that anger was showing on his face. He wasn't trying to hide it, however. And why should he? He wasn't afraid of these men. He might be at their mercy for the moment, but that didn't faze him. He stole a glance at Elrohir who was lying motionless several feet away, still unconscious and oblivious to the misfortune he had inadvertently caused his twin.

"So, elf," a voice said roughly, bringing Elladan's attention to the figure in front of him. It was the leader. And he was holding a short club, menacingly tapping his other palm with it, and smirking at the elf as if he was going to enjoy what happened next.

Elladan caught sight of the club and looked away, rolling his eyes. 'This will be wonderful,' he thought to himself sarcastically. 'Nothing like being beaten while tied up to end a perfect evening.'

Barelus must have caught the eye-roll Elladan gave at the sight of the club because he immediately backhanded Elladan with it, snapping his face to the side. He smirked with satisfaction as he watched Elladan pause, stunned by the blow and trying to blink back the pain.

"Who are you?" Barelus asked. He paused for a split second and the let Elladan have another one, this time hitting the opposite side of his face.

Again Elladan was stunned by the pain. He felt his eyes water and tasted the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. 'He didn't even give me a chance to answer,' Elladan thought to himself angrily, 'Fine, he doesn't want to hear answers? I won't give him any then.'

"I asked who you are, elf!" Barelus said angrily, delivering yet another blow to the helpless Elladan.

Elladan couldn't help the gasp of pain that escaped him this time. He noticed his surroundings sliding in and out of focus momentarily. 'Maybe not talking isn't such great idea, after all,' Elladan thought, 'Another blow like that and I'm going to be knocked out. And losing consciousness here would really not be the best thing that could happen right now.'

He must not have been the only one worried about him losing consciousness, however. A man stepped forward. The same man who had noticed he and Elrohir were twins earlier. "Barelus, you're going to knock him out if you hit him again," Aamussen warned. Barelus shot him a look but Aamussen continued with a rather unpleasant grin on his face, "Besides, I think I know of a much more persuasive way of extracting information from him."

Aamussen strode over to where the unconscious Elrohir lay. Kneeling down beside the elf, he grasped his shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. Leaning the unconscious figure against him to keep him up, he reached into his boot and withdrew his hunting knife. For the first time that night, a glint of fear glimmered in Elladan's eyes.

"Don't!" Elladan exclaimed before Aamussen had even made a threat against Elrohir. The men all looked to the elf, surprised at just how effective Aamussen's method had been at humbling the proud elf. "Please," Elladan went on, "Don't hurt my brother any more than he already is."

"Your brother?" Barelus asked.

"Yes, my twin," Elladan replied, desperately, "He's dying. He won't last much longer if he isn't treated. Please, you must untie me and let me heal him," he realized he was pleading with the men, but he also he realized he didn't care. It was his brother's life on the line, not his pride, and that made all the difference. "You're trying to keep him alive aren't you? Let me help him then. If I've only ended up throwing my fate in with his, so be it, but at least give me the chance to save his life."

The men were taken back a bit by this sudden outburst from the elf. It took them all a moment to digest Elladan's words before anyone said anything. "Hmm, elven twins?" Barelus said, intrigued. "Who knew there was such a thing?" He thought things over for a minute while Elladan watched him precariously. "The price of two _is_ always better than the price of one..." he mused, "Alright, listen, boy," he said a moment later, "You answer our questions, accept the fact that you're our prisoner and that your fate will be the same as your twin here, and don't make any foolish attempts at escape or anything of the sort, and I'll let you have a go at healing your half-dead brother."

Elladan agreed without hesitation. He was so eager to save Elrohir he didn't care what the terms were.

"Questions first," Barelus said roughly. "How did you find us and how did you know we had your brother?" Barelus had to know just how many elves knew where their missing prince was. Being taken by surprise in the middle of the night by one elf is one thing, but being taken by surprise by a whole army of elves could prove to be something quite different.

Elladan hesitated. He didn't know what to say, really. He knew he couldn't tell the men about Damus because that would get his human friend into a whole heap of trouble. But how else could he explain his being able to find Elrohir? Fortunately however, Barelus didn't notice Elladan's hesitation to answer. A loud commotion at the edge of the camp attracted everyone's attention at that moment.

Elladan turned to see what was going on. He had a horrible feeling that he knew what it was, however. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw Damus being dragged into the camp by two men. 'Oh no,' Elladan thought, his stomach dropping. 'Always when I think things can't get worse, they do.'

Damus didn't make eye-contact with Elladan but he didn't have to. Elladan didn't have to see his eyes to make out the shame and disappointment Damus was feeling at having been caught. 'Damus shouldn't feel bad,' Elladan thought, 'This is all my fault. It's my fault that we both got caught, and it's my fault that Damus is even here at all." Elladan couldn't help feeling horribly guilty and sorry.

"_What_ is going on?" Barelus growled, getting up and making his way over to the new commotion. "Is it another elf?"

"Look who it is, sir," one of the men said, holding Damus steady so everyone could get a good look at him.

Barelus stopped short. "It's the confounded boy," he said amazed.

Aamussen had made his way over by now with a menacing look on his face. "Didn't we agree the next time we met this fool we would kill him?" A few shouts of assent arose from the men at this.

"Wait men," Barelus said, raising a hand, "before we do any killing we've first got to figure out what's going on. What's the idiot boy doing here with an elf? And where's Traven?" All the men turned their attention to Damus at this, eager to hear some answers.

Damus had to quickly hide his surprise at hearing Traven was not there at the camp. He hadn't seen the man since the morning of the day before and he hadn't considered him being anywhere else than with these men. It was all very puzzling to him now. He thought back to the message of 'STAY HERE' Traven had left in the dirt. 'If Traven didn't go west with the men then where on earth could he have...' An idea suddenly struck Damus. At first it seemed too good to be true, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. 'Maybe,' Damus thought hopefully, 'just maybe Traven has proven himself to be the man I always thought he was...'

A swift smack to his face quickly brought Damus' attention back to the situation at hand. "Well?" Barelus barked, "He said he was taking you to Bree. Where is he? Why did you lead the elf here?"

Damus had to do some extremely quick thinking. If Traven was really doing what Damus hoped he was doing, then Damus had to provide him with some cover. "He's dead." he blurted out. Several men's eyebrows shot up at that. "We were," he fumbled for something plausible, "attacked," he said, trying not to sound suspiciously hesitant, "by the elf!" he finished. Elladan shot Damus a sharp look at that. "And then the elf made me lead him to his brother," Damus knew this fake story sounded horribly like he was trying to save his own skin and he wished he could apologize to Elladan, but it couldn't be helped at the moment.

"What were you doing hiding in the bushes then?" Aamussen asked, suspiciously.

"Well," Damus replied smoothly, "I'll admit I wasn't exactly keen on returning to a bunch of men that want me dead."

"And you shouldn't be," Barelus cut in. "But no matter. You'll be sold with the elves. There'd be no need to waste your life when we could otherwise make a small profit from it. Bind him and get him out of my sight."

The order was carried out and Elladan lost sight of Damus. Elladan couldn't help feeling a little shocked and wary about Damus' fabricated tale. Elladan could tell Damus had a reason for it, but now the men believed he had killed one of their own, and Elladan was sure that wouldn't improve matters one bit. As if right on cue Barelus approached Elladan once more.

"So, you think you can get away with killing one of my men, do you?" Barelus spat. He clubbed Elladan again, even harder than he had the first three times. Bound as he was, Elladan couldn't help being knocked painfully to the ground. It took a while for things to come back in focus this time, but Elladan managed to maintain silence and to keep from blacking out. "I should let your brother die," Barelus continued, "but lucky for you, he's no use to me dead. So fix him. And don't try anything clever or it's your brother that will get it," he warned. He then cut the ropes around Elladan's wrists only and then dragged him by his tunic over to where Elrohir lay.

"I need water and a fire," Elladan said, getting to his knees. His voice was hoarse from the pain the club had caused him. He saw Barelus nod to one of his men and knew the request would be carried out. Presently however, he could finally focus his attention on Elrohir.

Elrohir was lying still and quiet once more. So still in fact that it made Elladan want to look away. Seeing his brother lifeless like this made him slightly sick. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Elrohir. He very rarely let himself even consider the possibility of living life without Elrohir, but seeing Elrohir close to actually dying like this made the possibility seem far too real. Elladan felt his hands shaking a little as he reached for his twin. He pulled his brother's head and shoulders into his lap and looked down at his face, examining it closely. In the firelight Elladan could see how colorless and gray Elrohir's face looked. He placed his hand on his forehead and was startled to feel how cold it was. He should have felt feverish if his body was still trying to fight off the poison. "Don't tell me you're giving up, 'Ro," Elladan whispered anxiously. Worriedly, he pulled the blanket down to Elrohir's waist and looked for the main wound from the orc arrow. There it was on his left shoulder, so close to his heart it gave Elladan chills. The wound was clearly from a poisoned arrow. It was infected and not healing properly, and really quite grotesque to look at. Elladan could tell someone had already made an attempt at healing the wound, but the results of their efforts had been minimal. Elladan took a few more minutes to tally up all his brother's injuries before setting to work. He found Elrohir was covered with bruises--several of which were very nasty looking, his right ankle was broken, and at least two of his ribs were cracked if not also broken.

Elladan was silently grateful Elrohir was unconscious as he withdrew his small healing kit from his tunic and began working on his brother. This would be difficult enough with Elrohir being oblivious to the pain as he was. He withdrew the necessary herbs he needed, heated some water over the fire, and cut strips of cloth to serve as bandages. He worked as quickly as he could, mixing powerful concoctions as well as muttering ancient elvish phrases his father had taught him. He had never been more thankful than he was now for all the lessons in healing his father had taught Elrohir and him. He had never imagined they might actually end up in a situation like this when knowing what to do could make the difference between his brother's life or death. He worked tirelessly for over an hour, cleaning the wound out, and administering different medicines to the wound and forcing his brother to drink some as well. Finally it came time to bandage the wound up which Elladan did carefully and with great relief. He was sure his efforts on Elrohir would not come to waste. With the help of the elvish medicine he knew his brother would recover. It would just take more time and patience. The latter of which he didn't know if he had. He wished desperately Elrohir would wake up.

Elladan heaved a great sigh of relief as he sat back from his brother to examine him once more. His face still looked very colorless but Elladan knew he would be looking better in the morning. He felt a great weight lift from his shoulders as he was finally able to acknowledge that he had accomplished what he had set out to do. He had found his brother and he had healed him to the best of his abilities. He had saved his life. Another wave of relief washed over Elladan as he realized he would never have to consider that horrible thought of life without Elrohir. He closed his eyes and silently thanked the Valar for a moment. Only when he opened them again did he realize how heavy his eyelids had become. He was exhausted. And he realized he still had to set Elrohir's ankle and wrap his torso before he could go to sleep. Tiredly, he set about to accomplish these two things, his mind muddled from lack of sleep. He knew he should be trying to come up with a brilliant escape plan to get away from the men, but he wasn't ready yet to focus on their present predicament. All that mattered to him tonight was taking care of Elrohir.

Finally, when his Elrohir's ankle was set in a fairly decent makeshift splint, and his wounded ribs had been wrapped, Elladan allowed himself to collapse on the ground next to his brother. He threw a protective arm across his neck and allowed his heavy eyes to close. Despite the fact that they were both prisoners and faced the prospect of slavery, Elladan couldn't help feeling a surge of happiness as he lay there drifting quickly off to sleep. Elrohir was going to be okay. And they were together. That was all that _really_ mattered.

* * *

A swift kick to the side abruptly snatched Elladan from his deep slumber. A moan of pain escaped his lips as he rolled away from his attacker. He was trying to bring himself to open his eyes, but his body was not willing yet.

"I said get _up_, elf!" a harsh voice commanded.

Elladan suddenly gained his awareness. His memory rushed over him and his eyes snapped open. He was a prisoner in a camp full of men. Somehow he had forgotten, being so lost in his exhaustion as he was. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and attempted to sit up. A sudden throb of pain shot through his skull and caused him to wince. His head certainly hadn't forgotten the beating it received last night. He paused and took a couple of breaths, trying to ignore the aching pain. After a moment he forced himself to sit up. His hands had been bound again without his noticing as he slept, which made the task of righting himself a bit more difficult than it should have been. He glanced over and saw his twin lying next to him, still as unconscious as ever, but otherwise looking a bit better than he had the previous night. A hint of color had returned to his face.

Elladan looked around. The day was just dawning and the men were busying about breaking camp. Elladan could tell he had only had a few hours' sleep. His body was stiff and his fatigue draped his senses like a blanket. How he wished he and Elrohir could be home in Imladris right now, safe and sound in bed. It was enough having to deal with the scare of almost losing Elrohir, but now to have to deal with these ruthless, idiotic men...Elladan shook his head. He knew griping about it would do nothing to help the situation. He sighed and continued to observe the men with heavy eyelids.

Several minutes later the men were ready to begin the day's march. Two men came for Elladan and Elrohir. One took the unconscious twin and flung him carelessly onto a horse. The other man cut the rope binding Elladan's ankles and yanked him roughly into a standing position. He then looped a length of rope through his belt. Grasping the other end tightly in his grip, he pulled Elladan forward, forcing him to follow.

Elladan couldn't contain the annoyance he felt from showing on his face as the man led him along in line with the others. Here he was being led like a leashed animal with a bunch of lowlife humans. It was humiliating. 'I am the son of an elven lord,' Elladan thought to himself, 'This fate is not suitable for me in the least. Nor for my brother. I'm going to get us out of this. As soon as the opportunity presents itself, we'll be done with this.'

The hours dragged on as the men marched the twins westward. Elladan felt fatigued the whole time and he had been given nothing to eat or drink the entire morning. He had caught sight of Damus ahead of him in line several times, bound as he was, but he had never had a chance to make eye contact with him. He mulled the thought of escape over and over in his mind, and while having no idea how he would carry it out, he knew he wouldn't hesitate to take whatever chance that might come to him. He was a little nervous about acting on a whim, but that was usually how Elladan handled everything in life, and things had never turned out too bad before. He felt rather confident he could get himself and Elrohir safely out of this. These men were idiots, after all. The thing he was worried about was Damus. He didn't think it very likely he could save his human friend as well, and the idea of leaving him with these horrible men made him feel terribly guilty.

Finally at around noon the men stopped by a small stream to take a breather. Elladan was at last offered some much-needed water and he drank it down greedily. He saw the men withdraw morsels of food from their packs and wasn't surprised when he wasn't offered anything.

Suddenly a small jolt of opportunity snapped Elladan's senses into sharp focus as he noticed the man holding his "leash" had let go of the rope to get some food out of his pack. He glanced toward his brother, still unconscious and still on horse, only a few yards away. No one was hardly paying attention to either of them. 'This is it...!' Elladan thought quickly, sitting up straight. 'This is the opportunity I've been waiting for,' Without waiting hardly a moment longer Elladan knew he had to act. Speed and surprise would be the key to getting away. Almost in the blink of an eye Elladan had his legs drawn through his arms, bringing his bound hands in front of him rather than behind. Another brief moment later he was to the horse that was packing his unconscious brother. Wasting no time, he flung himself onto the horse's back and spurred him forward as hard as he could. The one thing Elladan hadn't counted on however, was that the horse would be just as surprised by this hasty escape attempt as the men would. The startled horse drew back on its hind legs, throwing both Elladan and his unconscious brother to the ground.

Elladan lay in a heap on the ground, his sleeping twin crushing the air out of him. 'That didn't exactly go as planned,' Elladan thought, tasting the bitter taste of disappointment and dread. He knew the men weren't going to just let this slide by. He pushed Elrohir off of him and sat up, watching the furious men encircle him and his brother.

"So, thought you could give us the slip, did you?" Barelus was looming over Elladan, and the look on his face actually managed to scare Elladan a bit. A swift blow caught Elladan across the cheek and knocked him down. Again, he just barely managed to keep from blacking out, but he couldn't keep stinging tears from suddenly welling up.

"I let you heal your brother," Barelus spat, "And in return you agreed not to attempt anything foolish like this!"

"The elf needs to be taught a lesson," Aamussen said stepping forward, his usual malicious grin plastered on his face. "I say we show him what happens when prisoners go against their word."

Barelus was nodding his approval and Elladan felt a prickle of fear dance across the back of his neck. 'Why can't I just do something right for once?' he thought to himself, frustrated, 'I've only managed to make things worse. Again.' He was really getting fed up with the beatings he had received and he certainly wasn't looking forward to another one. The small prickle of fear suddenly increased ten-fold however, when he saw Aamussen reaching for Elrohir. They were going to take his escape attempt out on his twin! The protective brother in him instinctively moved to block Elrohir but he suddenly found himself held fast by two men.

"What are you doing?" Elladan exclaimed, trying desperately to keep the fear out of his voice. He didn't want those men to so much as touch his brother.

Aamussen chuckled. "Barelus told you it would be your brother that would pay for your disobedience. Remember?" he paused, "Are you scared, elf? Scared for your brother?" he watched Elladan closely as he withdrew the same hunting knife he had threatened Elrohir with the previous evening.

"Don't touch him," Elladan threatened, his voice low and dangerous. He made a desperate attempt to break free from his captors but they were strong and held him fast. They all seemed to find Elladan's desperation and helplessness amusing. It infuriated him.

Aamussen pulled the unconscious Elrohir up into a sitting position. He fingered the knife thoughtfully for a moment. "First of all, let's see how asleep this elf really is, should we?" he said. He placed the tip of the knife against Elrohir's upper arm, keeping eye contact with Elladan the whole time. Elladan was glaring daggers at the man. He wanted to kill him. He struggled again with all his strength to free himself from the iron grips holding him, but to no avail. He could tell how amusing Aamussen found this and it made him hate him even more.

"Don't," Elladan begged, but Aamussen just continued to smirk and plunged the knife into Elrohir's arm. Elrohir did not so much as move. The same could not be said for Elladan, however. He desperately tried to lunge at Aamussen. No one was allowed to harm his brother, and especially not as some form of torture to him! Why didn't they just knock him around a bit more? Why did they find it so amusing to hurt his completely helpless brother while he could do nothing but watch? It made him furious.

"Well," Aamussen said, noting the results, "looks like he won't feel any of this. Too bad, isn't it?" He smirked again at the scowling Elladan and then continued, "You know, elf, I realized it must be rather difficult at times having an identical brother. No one can tell you apart, everyone compares you to each other...So, I think I'll do you a favor. What do you say we make you two stop being identical?" Aamussen brought the knife up towards Elrohir's face.

Elladan didn't like where this was going at all. How could he possibly stand by and be forced to watch his twin get maimed? It made him sick. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. He hated these men and he wished he could kill every one of them on the spot.

As if in answer to that wish, the sudden hiss of an arrow split through the air. Elladan didn't notice, lost in his desperate attempt to save his twin from permanent physical damage as he was. Only when one of the men who was holding him fell dead to the ground did he notice the arrow. It was an elvish arrow.

Confusion suddenly erupted in the group. Shouts went up, more hissing and twangs of bows and arrows sounded, and several more bodies fell to the ground. Elladan didn't know what was going on, but through the confusion he only knew he had to get to Elrohir. He had to get him away from that fiend and his knife.

There was still one man clinging to Elladan, looking around frantically, wondering what was going on. Everything seemed to slow down a bit to Elladan as he locked eyes once more with Aamussen. Aamussen seemed to understand perfectly what was happening. He saw the elvish arrows. He saw the fallen men too, and he knew what it all meant. Their little escapade with the elven princes was coming to an end. Aamussen glared furiously at Elladan. Mustering all the spite he could into his glare, he smirked one last time and raised the knife above the unconscious Elrohir. Elladan saw what was about to happen and knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was too far away. He jerked himself free from the man holding him and lurched for Elrohir just as Aamussen was bringing the knife down. At the same split second the knife made contact with Elrohir's back, an arrow made contact with Aamussen's eye. He fell back, dead before he hit the ground.

"Elrohir!" Elladan exclaimed, reaching for his twin. Wide-eyed, he frantically gathered his brother in his arms. The knife was protruding grotesquely from Elrohir's back. The sight of it made Elladan reel, and he had to struggle to maintain his senses. "Elrohir..." he whispered. Not knowing what else to do he shakily grasped the knife's handle and immediately felt the sticky warmth of his brother's blood flow over his hand. He swallowed hard. Numbly, he began to pull on the knife until he felt it start to glide slowly from his brother's body. The feel of it made the earth around him sway and he had to shut his eyes for a moment to compose himself. After what seemed like much longer than it actually took, the knife was free. Elladan stared at the blood-soaked blade for a moment, sickened, before flinging it away from him. He then pulled Elrohir close to him and though he wasn't really aware of it, he started to sob.

Elladan wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually he realized that everything was now silent. There was no more shouting, no more sounds of bow twangs, just silence. Elladan didn't care what was happening though. For all he knew, his brother was dying. He was in shock, and his emotions were running free which he wasn't used to, and he was so lost at the moment. He felt so helpless, not knowing what to do as his brother lay there bleeding in his arms. Elrohir. His twin brother. His best friend. All that could be slipping away from him at that very moment and there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted to cry, and it was only then that he realized he already was.

Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulders. But these were different hands from the ones the men had laid on him. These hands were comforting. They drew him up so he sat up straight, and he suddenly felt Elrohir being lifted away from him. He grasped for him desperately, but the comforting hands held him back. He felt himself being pulled to his feet and he turned to see who it was guiding his movements. Never before had Elladan been so happy to see this face.

"_Glorfindel...!_" he breathed. He was so surprised to see him, yet so very glad. He suddenly understood what all the commotion was about. The search party had found them. At last. It was almost too good to be true. Elladan's bonds were immediately cut and he would have thrown his arms around Glorfindel in a grateful hug if he had not been so preoccupied with thoughts of his twin at the moment. Elrohir had been stabbed. Elrohir was bleeding. Elrohir might be dying right now!

Elladan rushed over to the elves that were immediately tending to Elrohir, and he noticed Glorfindel follow. He now also had time to notice all the arrow-pierced bodies that scattered the ground. All the men had been killed. Elladan suddenly gasped at that thought and frantically looked around. 'They wouldn't have killed Damus! He was hardly older than a boy and a prisoner like myself...' Elladan let out a sigh of relief when he spotted Damus several yards away, still bound and being watched by two elves, but very much alive. He was the only man that had been spared. Except for one more...Elladan suddenly noticed an older man conversing with Damus and the two elves. Elladan had never seen him before. Confused, he tore his gaze away and brought it back to the elves treating Elrohir.

Elladan knelt down beside them. "He'll be alright, won't he?" he asked anxiously, willing them to answer in the affirmative.

Glorfindel glanced at him. "We're going to rush him home as quickly as possible. But yes, once he reaches your father, he will recover."

"So, the stab wound--it's not...not..._fatal,_ then?" Elladan asked, hardly able to get the words out.

A look of pity crossed Glorfindel's face. It was clear to him how shaken up Elladan was. And, well, there was no reason for him not to be, he realized. He had just witnessed his twin get stabbed. He put a comforting hand on the young elf's shoulder. "Your brother will be alright. The knife did not go in very deep and did not puncture anything vital. Put your worries at rest, Elladan."

Elladan let out a great sigh of relief. All that had plagued his mind for the last several days was Elrohir's well-being. He had been so worried--so _scared_ of losing his twin. It was so relieving to finally have his fears put to rest. It felt as if a great burden had been lifted from him. He finally turned and buried his head in Glorfindel's chest. Glorfindel put his arm around the young elf and patted his back a couple times. Breaking away after a moment Elladan asked, "How did you find us?"

"Ah, it's rather surprising what happened, actually," Glorfindel replied. Before he could continue however, his attention suddenly shifted from Elladan to several approaching figures. Elladan turned to look.

Damus was coming towards them, along with the older man Elladan knew nothing about, and a couple elves. Elladan noticed Damus' hands had been freed and he was grinning happily as he approached Elladan. Elladan quickly wiped his face and returned the grin, eager to hear the full story.

"Elladan!" Damus said, patting him on the back. "Everything's alright?" he asked, giving the unconscious Elrohir a concerned look.

"Yes, Elrohir will be okay," Elladan replied, the relief in his voice evident.

Damus lightly tapped Elladan's face with a play punch. "I see you got banged up pretty bad. Most of which is my fault. I've been wanting to apologize for telling the men that story about you killing Traven here," he gestured at the older man standing next to him. The man raised the corners of his mouth at Elladan. It looked friendly, but it wasn't exactly a smile. He seemed shy and out of place. Elladan nodded a greeting and brought his attention back to Damus who was going on, "I know it sounded like I was trying to save my own neck, but I was really trying to give Traven some cover. You see, I hadn't realized until then that Traven had gone after the search party! When I saw he wasn't camped with the men I knew that was the only other place he would have gone. He found the elves and led them to us." He gave Traven a proud smile. "You saved both our necks you know, old man?"

Traven gave a genuine smile at that. "Well, you must have rubbed off on me, kid."

Elladan smiled. He knew what Traven meant. Damus was the type of person that made those around him want to be better. "I don't know how to thank both of you. This whole ordeal has just been..." he sought for a fitting word,"It's just been a nightmare. Anyways, thanks to you both, I've found Elrohir and we can finally go home. You two must be rewarded!" he suddenly realized, "Why don't you travel back to Rivendell with us and my father can repay you for your deeds?"

Damus and Traven glanced at each other. Elladan could tell the idea of going to Rivendell did not seem very thrilling to Traven. It was obvious he felt awkward around all the elves. "We were actually planning on heading to Bree," Damus said, looking back to Elladan.

"Alright then," Elladan replied, "We'll have your reward sent to you there then."

Damus smiled. "Really, Elladan, It doesn't matter. I didn't help you in hopes of being repaid."

"I know," Elladan replied, "That's why you deserve it all the more." He shook Damus' hand one last time and assured him he would always be a welcomed friend were he ever to visit Rivendell. They parted with kind words and Elladan was surprised at how sad it made him feel to watch the human head off westward. In the short time Elladan had known Damus he had come to regard him as a companion and friend. Perhaps it was the fact that they went through a crisis together that forged such a quick bond between them. Whatever the reason, Elladan liked Damus and he now doubted that he would ever see him again. He did not doubt however, that he would never forget him.

Elladan turned back to Glorfindel and the others. He saw they were done patching Elrohir up and were quickly preparing to get him back to Rivendell. He was seated in front of another elf on a horse and Elladan quickly got the idea it was just that rider and another that would be leaving for Rivendell within a few minutes.

"Wait a minute!" Elladan called, catching their attention. "I'm going too!"

"No, Elladan," Glorfindel interjected, "It's just these two that will be taking Elrohir home as quickly as possible. You're in no condition to ride hard right now, and they can't afford to be slowed down. We'll be traveling back to Rivendell at a normal pace."

Elladan was beside himself. He had just spent the last few days looking for his twin and he wasn't about to let Elrohir out of his sight again for at least the next decade!

It was as if Glorfindel could read his thoughts because he quickly took on a stern tone and spoke before Elladan could say anything, "Elladan," he said firmly, "be reasonable, please." he paused, "It only makes sense for you to travel back to Rivendell with the rest of the group. And don't think you're off the hook for running away from your last escort. If you make this a routine I can only imagine your father will have a thing or two to say about it." Glorfindel raised his eyebrows, a half smile on his face.

Elladan had forgotten he was still in trouble for that. "Alright, alright," he said, hoping to redeem himself a bit. "Just," he said turning to the elves that would be taking Elrohir home, "Just be careful."

The elf holding Elrohir in front of him chuckled. "We will, Lord Elladan. Do not worry about your brother. You'll see him in a couple days' time. Perhaps he'll even be awake by then."

Elladan watched as the two riders took off with his twin brother in tow. He was still upset about once again being separated from Elrohir, but at least he didn't feel any anxiety or worry anymore. He was sure everything was going to be fine now. He couldn't wait until Elrohir would finally wake up. Boy, did he have a lot to tell him. And a lot to yell at him about too! First for not being honest about his dream, second for drugging him (which Elladan was still fuming about, now that he thought about it), and thirdly for giving them both away by waking up the whole camp of men. That little orc was going to catch it. Elladan almost let out a laugh at that moment. Hardly an hour ago he was fretting for Elrohir's life and now here he was already anticipating giving his brother a hard time. Yes, things were going to be back to normal quickly. Elladan smiled and turned back towards the group, eager to start the journey back home.

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: Well, it's almost over! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I probably should have broken it into two, but both halves wouldn't quite have been long enough for two separate chapters. Anyways, I hope the resolution didn't seem too rushed. There's only one more chapter to go now and I'll try to have that posted in about a week. And if you'll leave a review I would just love you! Thanks for reading. :-)

Review responses:

**Coolio02-** Thanks for sticking with the story! You were my very first reviewer, did you know? I love hearing from you.

**Elven hope-** Your review really cracked me up! Thanks for taking the time to keep reading. I hope you still got your writing done and your bedroom tidied and all that. :)

**random person-** Thanks for your nice comments!

**BlueEyedElf-** Phew, I'm glad I didn't lose your interest! Your reviews are so nice.

**pipinheart-** Thanks for dropping me a note! And thanks for complimenting the story. That's really nice of you.

**Viresse-** Thanks for your insight. And you're right, I'm not planning on any big twists at this point. Thanks for reviewing. :)

**WarriorElf-** Hey! It was good to hear from you again! Thanks for conitinuing to read and thanks also for the lovely compliments. Believable characters are a must for me to enjoy any story, and I'm really glad to hear you found the twins believable in this story. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

Nearly tripping over his own feet and stumbling over the threshold, Elladan unceremoniously flung the great doors wide open and was already half-way down the hall before even having a chance to think of closing them behind him. He didn't care. He was home.

Rounding the corner, he vaguely noted the stares of the usual array of company present in his household as he passed them-advisors, counselors, visitors, friends. But they were nothing more than wide-eyed blurs of inconsequential faces at the moment. He didn't even give them a fraction of an acknowledging nod in greeting. It was not that his complete lack of attention for them was intentional, however. But there was only one face he cared to see right now. One face that had been dominating his anxious thoughts for the past several days—the last two in particular, since beginning the trek home. And that face was the same face he would have just seen, had he paused to glance in the large, gold-trimmed mirror mounted on the wall he just passed.

But he didn't pause, and he didn't so much as even notice the mirror, let alone stop to glance in it. For it was not his own face he was interested in seeing. It was the indistinguishable face of his twin brother. The brother, whom last he'd seen, was battered, bleeding, and lost in an unconscious battle with a pernicious poison. The same brother whom he wanted nothing more than to see alive and well and whole again.

Slowing his stride, Elladan gathered his breath as he at last approached the doors to his brother's bedroom. They opened silently as he cautiously stepped into the room. The curtains were half-drawn, allowing a decent amount of light to fill the quiet space. They fluttered ever so slightly as shadows of leaves danced behind them in a gentle breeze.

Four steps in front of him lay the still figure of his brother, a light sheet partially covering his heavily-bandaged chest. His face, a colorless, blank mask, offered no indication of his current condition. He would have almost looked peaceful if it weren't for his pale coloring and unnerving stillness. His eyelids didn't flutter, his body didn't stir. Elladan just stood, watching. Hardly discernible, the sheet was rose and fell in a light, but steady pattern. That was all Elladan needed to see, proof that his brother was alive and breathing.

Elladan exhaled deeply and a flood of worry and fear accompanied the anxious breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Elrohir was okay. Their father had patched him up nicely, and he was here, home, just an arm's length away, sleeping and recovering soundly.

Relief and gratification quickly replaced all the doubt and worry he had been plagued with, and Elladan contentedly reached for the ceiling, stretching his fatigued body to its extent. He couldn't contain the yawn that followed, and he only then began to notice just how exhausted and sore he actually was. He was about to turn and go, perhaps to collapse on his own bed, when he noticed his twin's eyes were open and staring blankly up at him.

Elladan dropped his arms mid-stretch, the remainder of his yawn finishing as a gasp. "Elrohir!" he exclaimed, "You're awake!"

Elrohir blinked several times, willing his surroundings to come into better focus. "Ell," he managed weakly, his brow furrowed in confusion, "you look like hell."

Elladan gave a short, exasperated snort, "Oh thanks, Elrohir," he said, offering a sarcastic smirk, "You're looking awfully sharp yourself, you know."

Confusion still sprawled clearly across his face, Elrohir attempted to push himself into a sitting position, but quickly changed his mind as a gasp of pain sprang involuntarily from his lips.

"Easy!" Elladan admonished, stepping quickly to his twin's side. "Don't move, 'Ro, you'll dislodge your stitches," he said, gently pressing his twin's shoulder back against the pillow. "You need to lie still."

The grimace of pain faded from Elrohir's face as he relaxed back against the pillows. He blinked once more up at his twin, getting a closer look at him. "Elladan, what happened to you?" his hoarse voice riddled with concern.

Elladan had no idea what he looked like at the moment, but he could have taken a decent guess. The multiple blows he'd received from the humans were still quite fresh in his memory, and the tenderness and stinging hadn't yet begun to fade. Cuts and bruises aside, however, there was still his general appearance of unkempt hair and filthy tunic to clearly indicate he hadn't had a chance to bathe in a while. He probably didn't smell all too lovely either, he mused.

Elrohir was still studying his twin with a perturbed expression, when the flood gates finally started cracking open, and the memories slowly began leaking in.

Pain. Darkness. Rain. A warning shout of orcs nearby. The stables. Elladan unconscious. A drugged water pouch. That dream. That blasted dream.

Elrohir's eyes widened as each scene flitted through his memory. His gaze snapped to meet his brother's, his expression betraying nothing of the horror and guilt that was washing over him.

Elladan, watching him closely, could see his twin's recollections were finally starting to kick in. "Everything's coming back now, huh?"

"Elladan, I'm so s—"

"What were you _thinking_, Elrohir?" Elladan couldn't contain his exclamation. The frustrations of the last week had been pent up far too long, and it was finally time for them to let loose.

Elrohir winced slightly at his brother's tone.

"Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put yourself in? Do you have any clue how _worried_ we all were? Do you have even the slightest comprehension of the extent of your idiocy this last week?" Elladan certainly had not been intending to attack his twin, but even with the relief and joy of knowing Elrohir was safe and well, the injury of all the painful anxiety Elladan had endured so recently was still too fresh on his mind.

Elrohir gave his brother a pleading look. "Elladan, I—"

"I came to in the _stables_, Elrohir," Elladan went on, "after being _drugged_ by my own brother. And Finleann shows up in the middle of the night, raving about an orc ambush, and saying he has no clue where you are," he hardly paused for a breath, "And so of course Father and I go out of our _minds_ with worry," he went on, gesturing heatedly, "and the search team can't find you, no one can find you, and I have to give Glorfindel the slip, which isn't easy, I might add," his voice rose slightly, "just so I can be allowed to continue searching for you..."

Elrohir grimaced at every pause. His eyes squeezed shut, he couldn't help wincing at the tone of his brother's voice and each new decibel it reached. He knew his brother wasn't advertently trying to attack him, or make him feel like a complete wretch (although he wasn't doing too bad a job of it, anyway), and it wasn't so much the actual accusations as it was the tone of his brother's voice that was cutting into Elrohir like a knife. He had never heard such hurt in his brother's voice before. He had never before heard such desperation or pain behind his brother's words, and Elrohir could tell that Elladan had suffered an ordeal. And he'd suffered because of him. Because of his foolish actions. And not only the pain behind his voice was manifest to it, but the visible signs of abuse clearly present across his face. Elrohir slowly raised his eyes to better study the bruises on his brother's face. The black eye, the swollen cheek, the gash on his lip, the multiple discolorations of bruises; those all happened to his brother because of him.

A new kind of guilt flooded through Elrohir and a wave of disgusted nausea quickly followed. His body attempted doubling over in a type of dry heave, but the stiff injuries and tight bandages only allowed for minimal movement. He rolled to his side with a sickened groan.

"…And then one of the humans had the bright idea of—Elrohir!" Elladan's fervent rant broke off and he instantly grasped his twin's shoulder in concern. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Elrohir couldn't keep the grimace of pain from his face, as he attempted to bury it in his pillow. He wasn't sure what hurt more at the moment, the unpleasant jarring of his stiches or the realization that he alone was completely responsible for everything that had happened to his brother. Even though he didn't know the details yet, he knew enough just by looking at him. And each detail he had been able to gather from Elladan's rant only cut into him deeper and deeper. He was almost afraid to hear the whole story.

"Elrohir," Elladan pressed, grasping his shoulder tighter, "What is it, what hurts?" he asked, all note of ire gone from his voice.

Elrohir rolled back to face his twin, unable to hide his pained expression. His eyes darted across his twin's face once more, paining him further. "It was all my fault," he stammered, "That happened to you because of me," he said, desperately scanning his brother's injuries once more.

Elladan took a step back, suddenly a little self-conscious. Still unaware of what exactly his condition looked like, he regretted not taking a moment to glance in a mirror before confronting his brother. It hadn't even occurred to him that his appearance might have caused his brother distress. Sure, he had wanted to confront Elrohir briefly about the whole ordeal, but now he could see his brother was taking it in a way that Elladan had never intended. He often forgot that Elrohir could be very self-deprecating sometimes, and that was not what Elladan had meant to encourage at all.

Elladan avoided his brother's gaze as he casually tried to deflect Elrohir's comment. "Me? I'm just fine, 'Ro, it's you that—"

"Who did that to you?" Elrohir asked, his voice steadying slightly. "You mentioned humans. Did they do that?" he asked, nodding towards his brother's face, a distinct tone of anger now present in his voice. "Did they beat you?" he asked, his breathing getting shallower as his anger increased.

"Elrohir, calm down, I'm fine," Elladan said, willing himself to sound as casual as possible, though he was kicking himself mentally for inadvertently getting his brother worked up.

"No, tell me, I want to hear the rest of the story," Elrohir demanded. "What did they do to you?"

"Elrohir, it's fine, it's all over now. The only thing that matters is that we found you and you're going to be okay now."

"How many were you outnumbered by?" Elrohir pressed, "Were you tied up or did they just hold you down?" His breathing increased as his voice rose, shaking slightly once more.

Wishing he could back-track the entire conversation, Elladan desperately tried to placate his twin. "Elrohir, everything's fine," he urged once more, wishing he knew how to better talk his way out of the situation.

"No, Elladan, everything's not _fine_," Elrohir insisted, his voice rising by the moment. "They couldn't be further from _fine_," he said, his eyes getting noticeable brighter. "I spent weeks tossing and turning at night, waking from that same Valar-forsaken dream time and time again. I worried constantly that I was seeing an actual vision of you. You in danger; alone, wounded, and crying for help. It scared me, Elladan. It really terrified me. I had to do something, anything, to keep it from coming true," his eyes were welling up further, and his voice was shaking noticeably. "I would have done anything," he stammered, "Anything to keep you from getting hurt. And look what I managed to accomplish," he said, gesturing weakly to his brother. "I put you in danger too horrifying to imagine," The tears were threatening to spill over now.

This was getting way too out of hand. Elladan had to bring some sense back into the conversation. And the threat of tears was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"Elrohir!" Elladan said firmly, "_You_ didn't do this to me," he said, pointing emphatically to his face. "And it _really_ doesn't matter now who did. All that matters is we're both home, it's all over. So, please calm down or Ada will kill me if he sees how worked up I've made you."

"Elladan," Elrohir pleaded, his eyes shining, "I'm so sorry." The tears finally spilled over and Elladan had to look away. He had never felt worse in his life.

"Elrohir," a note of pleading had entered his own voice, and Elladan vaguely noticed a slight burning in his own eyes as well. "Please," he stammered, searching for words, while wishing the tears would stay far away, "You don't know…We were so worried, Elrohir," he didn't know what he trying to say, and he still couldn't meet his brother's gaze. But knowing Elrohir was going to blame himself for the whole ordeal and hate himself for it as well, it really hurt.

Elladan blinked back the wetness and forced himself to look his twin in the eyes. "You know I'd do anything," He said firmly. He wasn't always the best with words, but he knew his twin would understand exactly what he was trying to say. No matter the circumstances, no matter the outcome, no matter whose "fault," if his brother was in trouble, he'd be there. Everytime.

Elrohir nodded, a silent indication of complete understanding and mutual feeling. He quickly drew a hand across his face, wiping it dry. "I'm still going to kill those humans though," he stated stubbornly.

"You're too late," Elladan said, crossing the room to finally get a good look in a mirror.

"They're dead?"

"The search party had to take them all out. Things were getting a little ugly. All but one of them," Elladan said, examining himself in the mirror. "All but two, actually."

"All but two?"

"Wow, you weren't kidding, Elrohir," Elladan said, pushing his hair back.

"Huh?"

"I look like complete hell," Elladan said, touching his face tenderly.

"Told you. Why all but two though?" Elrohir asked, trying to get back to the subject.

Elladan returned to the bed and briefly related to his brother the details of the heroic acts the boy named Damus had displayed. He told him of their encounter in the night, and of Damus' selfless care and protection towards Elrohir during his unconscious ordeal. He told him he had extended an invitation to Rivendell in hopes that Elrohir would be able to meet him when he awoke, but that Damus unfortunately had to decline.

"He was a brave and admirable kid. I wouldn't have been able to find you without him."

"Wow," Elrohir said. "I wasn't aware my life could be so indebted to someone I've never even met. I wish I had a chance to thank him."

"Oh!" Elladan exclaimed, suddenly remembering something important. "Speaking of which, I promised Damus I'd have a reward sent to him in Bree!"

Elrohir's face brightened.

"You don't suppose—" Elladan began.

"That Ada would let _us_ deliver it to him?" Elrohir finished excitedly.

The sound of a throat clearing suddenly snapped their attention to the doorway. "I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you."

"Father!"

The lord of Rivendell crossed the room, an ever-so-subtle grin present on his face. Leave it to his boys to be reunited at home for little more than an hour, banged up, bruised, exhausted, and not to mention still in very deep trouble for their recent antics, and already plotting their next intended adventure.

"What do you mean 'don't get our hopes up?'" Elladan asked dejectedly.

"We'd be so careful, Ada"

"And Bree's really not all that far…"

They continued bouncing what they considered very persuasive points off each other as their father crossed the room, shaking his head, but still unable to keep the subtle grin from spreading, so relieved was he to have his sons home.

He drew them both into a tight hug as he reached the bedside, and let out a long-awaited sigh of relief.

"It would really only be a week," Elrohir offered.

"Five days," Elladan countered.

"_Don't_ get your hopes up, boys."

"We'll bring it up tomorrow," Elladan whispered to his twin.

Elrond snorted and gave his sons a tight squeeze. "Will that be before or after our long talk regarding the appropriate behavior of an elven lord's son towards his entrusted escorts, Elladan?"

Elladan winced ever so slightly.

"Or perhaps, Elrohir, it will be after our long lecture of recurring dreams, and the importance of not keeping them from someone who might happen to know a thing or two about them?"

It was Elrohir's turn to wince.

"Yes, I'm sure you'll find time to bring it up," Elrond laughed, "but I'm telling you now, don't get your hopes up."

Elladan caught his brother's eye and gave him a subtle wink.

"Don't think I didn't see that, Elladan."

"But it would only be to _Bree_."

Elrohir laughed.

"Don't think your incessant whining won't be taken into account during our discussions tomorrow," Elrond countered, trying to keep his grinning as minimal as possible. How he had missed these two.

"We could do it in four days, Ada."

"Stop while you're ahead, Elladan."

"Three-and-a-half."

Elrohir's laughter carried down the hall. It felt good to be home.

THE END


End file.
